Where Angels Fear
by plumtuckered
Summary: The team revisits the world on which they met Aris Boch to explore a mysterious stone altar within which lies a terrifying darkness just waiting to be freed.
1. Chapter 1

TITLE: Where Angels Fear

AUTHOR: plumtuckered

PAIRING: None

NOTES: This story takes place after the third season episode "Past and Present" and it is definitely a Daniel-whumper with a lot of emphasis on the friendship between Jack and Daniel. There is plenty of Teal'c and Sam, though, too. I have found it really hard when writing for SG-1 to avoid the formulaic scenes, the ones everyone uses, but hopefully the adventure itself will allow those to be ignored---hopefully.

Thank you in advance to those who choose to read this. As always, reviews and words of advice are most welcomed and extremely appreciated!

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CHAPTER ONE

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"You wanted to see me, sir?"

General George Hammond looked up from the file he'd been perusing to see Colonel Jack O'Neill standing in his open doorway. "Yes, I did, Colonel," he replied. "Come in."

Jack stepped into the office then shut the door behind him. He stood expectantly before George's desk, his hands stuck deep into his pants pockets and George couldn't help the slight smile; all military decorum had become unnecessary between the general and his second.

He cleared his throat. "So Colonel, what are your plans?"

"Sir? Oh, for the next three days? I thought I'd go up to the cabin, do a little fishing."

"Alone?"

"Yes, sir," replied Jack hesitantly.

George sighed and shut the file folder then folded his hands over it. "I was just finishing Dr. Jackson's mission report on Vyus."

"Is there a problem with it, sir?"

"Were you aware that Dr. Jackson has requested permission to spend his down-town off-world with SG-11?"

The colonel looked down and shook his head, rocking absently on the balls of his feet. "General, Daniel wouldn't know down-time if it bit him in the ass."

George smiled. "I think research 'is' his down-time, Jack."

Jack snorted then looked up to meet the general's eyes again. "So what's this about, sir?"

George sat back. "Dr. Fraiser is concerned with Dr. Jackson's distant behavior since Ke'ra and the others left," he explained. He braced his elbows on the arms of his chair and tented his fingers before him. "I have to agree with her."

"He had a rough time of it, sir, but he'll be okay."

"Has he talked to you at all?"

"About Ke'ra? No," replied the colonel. "He hasn't really 'talked' to me since---." He waved a hand around helplessly. "Well, since Sha're died."

"I see. Have 'you' talked to him?"

The colonel reached out to poke at the back of one of the chairs in front of George's desk. "He's hurting, General. It'll just take time for him to---to work through it all, but he will---eventually; he always does."

"Colonel, he's grieving---."

"With all due respect, sir, I know that. I know that very well. I know about all the crap that's been handed to him and keeps right on getting handed to him. I also know he's tied up in knots inside and that he's trying to handle it all alone---as usual. There's nothing I can do."

"You're certain about that?"

Jack hesitated then rubbed his forehead. "No---no, I'm not, sir."

George eyed the younger man closely. "Then what 'are' you going to do, Colonel?"

"Do, sir?"

"He's a valuable member of your team not to mention the SGC," replied the general. "And I think we're both worried about him."

Jack sighed, grimaced then nodded and George knew that what he was asking of his second-in-command was not going to be easy. Jack O'Neill didn't 'do' the touchy feely stuff, as he called it, but George knew different.

"So?" pushed the general. "You're intentions, Colonel?"

Jack looked down for a long moment then looked back up, his chin raised slightly. "I intend to take Daniel fishing with me," he replied. "Now if you'll excuse me, General, I have an archeologist to track down."

"You're dismissed," said George with a gentle smile. He watched the younger man turn and leave his office, flashing George a knowing sideways grin before he closed the door.

The general sat forward and laid his hands flat over the mission report folder. He knew that fishing wouldn't help the archeologist. What he needed was a friend. 'Who' he needed was Jack O'Neill and by all appearances, that was exactly who he was going to get---whether Dr. Jackson wanted him or not.

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"Whatcha doing?"

Daniel looked up from the backpack he was stuffing full of books. "Jack? Uh---what are you doing here?"

The Air Force colonel wandered into Daniel's lab, his hands shoved deep into the pockets of his BDUs. "Just visiting---why, you got a problem with me just visiting?" he asked. He picked up a tiny bowl and studied it then put it back in its place on one of the archeologist's over-filled shelves.

"No," drawled out Daniel slowly. "I'm just wondering 'why' you're visiting. I thought you'd gone to your cabin." He picked up an old text, looked it over absently then shoved it in his pack.

Jack continued his examination of Daniel's artifacts as he shrugged. "Had some paperwork to finish," he replied easily. "So---Hammond says you've asked permission to go off-world."

"Yeah---I did."

"Why don't you come fishing with me?" asked the colonel. He turned expectantly to the younger man. "We have three days of down-time, Daniel---'down-time'. People don't work on their down-time."

"Who said I was working?"

Jack released a patient sigh. "You're going off-world?"

"So---."

"So---."

"Jack, I'm going back to PJ6-877," replied Daniel then he raised a halting hand. "And before you say it---no, there's no sign of our friend Aris Boch, and no, I'm not going alone. SG-11 is going with me---or rather---I'm going with them."

"Why?"

"They found traces of naquada in the caves---."

"Not why are 'they' going---why are 'you' going?"

Daniel paused in his packing and bit his lower lip. "Because I need to get away---to think for a while," he replied softly.

"I do some of my best thinking when I'm fishing."

The archeologist looked up at his friend and couldn't help but smile; Jack was worried. The older man was fiddling with a stone tablet on the lab's big workbench, carefully avoiding Daniel's gaze.

"Might surprise you how relaxing it can be," continued the colonel with a shrug.

"Jack," began Daniel tentatively. "It's only been a few weeks since Sha're's death and after the whole thing with Ke'ra---I just want to go somewhere far---far away." He waved a hand to encompass his surroundings. "Away from all of---this."

"Minnesota is---."

"Listen, I know what you're trying to do and I appreciate it---really, but I'll be fine. The UAV spotted what looks like a partially buried stone altar very near the caves---I'm just going to check it out."

"Oh, I get it. You're not looking for a place to think as much as a place to distract you 'from' thinking."

"Pretty much."

Jack looked up to meet Daniel's eyes. "Well, then---I'll go with you."

"Wha---what?"

"You want to be distracted and I 'excel' at distracting," said the colonel with a pleased grin. "So I'll come with you."

"Jack---."

"Come on, it'll be great. You, me, squiggles, old rocks, lots of distracting---what could be better?"

"Jack---."

The older man canted his head and regarded Daniel, his brown eyes conveying all that he wasn't saying.

Daniel sighed with reluctant fondness. "You'd be bored the minute we got there---you know it and I know it."

"Bored? Me? Nah."

"Jack."

"Daniel."

The archeologist zipped up his backpack then eyed his friend through narrowed eyes.

"It'll be fun," Jack insisted.

"Fun."

"Fun---as in enjoyable, pleasing---a blast."

Daniel shook his head, but a small smile curved his lips. "I'm going to regret this, aren't I?"

"Probably."

"Well---if I remember correctly, there's a small body of water by the altar---not so much a lake as an over-sized pond, but maybe---."

Jack shoved a finger at his friend. "There you go then---," he interrupted. "You play with your rocks and stare at your squiggles and I'll fish. I'll even bring two rods just in case---well, you know, one can only stare for so long---maybe."

"Thanks, Jack."

"Well, don't let it go to your head. I mean my other two choices were fishing by myself or hanging out with the ladies."

"Ladies?"

"Carter, Fraiser---and Teal'c," replied Jack with a grimace then he shook his head in bemusement.

"Uh---Teal'c?"

Jack snorted. "Carter's convinced him to watch a 'chick flick' marathon this weekend."

"You're kidding."

"Now would I kid about something like that?"

"Maybe we should see if he wants to come with us."

"No, Daniel---you see, Teal'c is 'excited'---he wants to do it, says it'll be an enlightening experience."

"Oh, boy."

"Yep," replied the colonel. "What can you do?"

"Eat lunch?"

"Sure."

Daniel watched his friend turn on his heel, his hands shoved back into his pockets and a whistle on his lips. He couldn't stop the slight smile and he ducked his head as he followed Jack out into the corridor, his own hands pocketed at his sides.

"Mind if I ask you something?"

The archeologist cast Jack a sideways glance. "Why her?"

"Yeah---I mean, I have to say you surprised me. What the hell were you thinking?"

"I don't know, Jack," Daniel sighed tiredly. "She paid attention to me, made me feel---." He waved a hand around helplessly. "Cared about, I guess---maybe even---."

"Loved?"

Daniel felt his cheeks flush. "Maybe."

"She was pretty---in a 'destroyer of worlds' sort of way."

"Jack."

"What? I'm just saying---."

"I hear what you're saying, Jack, and I've heard what you've 'been' saying, believe me, but I still think she deserved a chance to live a different life---as Ke'ra."

"I agree," replied Jack.

"Ke'ra wasn't the same person as Linea---wha---what?" stammered the archeologist. He stopped in his tracks and stared incredulously at the back of his friend's departing head then hurried to catch up. "You agree?"

Jack shrugged. "Yeah---after due consideration, I think you did the right thing."

Daniel blinked.

"What?" barked the colonel.

"You---you really agree?"

Jack looked at Daniel askance. "It does happen occasionally," he replied.

"No, it doesn't."

"Oh, come on---sure it does."

"No, no I'm pretty sure it doesn't."

"Daniel."

"Jack?"

"Play nice or I won't go with you to dig for rocks."

"Really?"

The colonel placed his hand on his chest in an overly dramatic gesture. "Daniel, you wound me."

The archeologist snorted and shook his head, his eyes cast back to the floor ahead of him. "I'm sorry I let things get out of hand. It's just been so long and---well---nothing would have happened anyway."

"Sha're?"

Daniel nodded, his voice suddenly gone.

Jack reached out and squeezed the back of the archeologist's neck. "Give it time."

"I know."

The colonel cleared his throat uncomfortably. "So, do I get my own archeologist starter set?" he asked. "With the little brushes and doodads?"

"No offense, Jack, but you're not exactly a gentle touch. I'd just as soon you keep to your fishing while I examine the altar."

"Hey, I'll have you know that fishing takes an 'extremely' gentle touch."

"Fishing?"

"You betcha---all finesse."

"Do you even know what finesse means, Jack?"

The colonel backhanded Daniel's arm. "Of course I do, smart guy. Fishing takes at least as much delicacy and yes, finesse as handling your fancy rocks does."

"Really."

"Yes, really."

"So I'd be good at fishing then?"

Jack scowled then shook his head. "I think maybe---not so much."

"What? Why not?"

"Fishing takes an ability that you just don't have, Daniel," replied Jack. "The ability to stay quiet."

"I'm always quiet."

Jack looked incredulous. "You?"

"Yes, me."

"Daniel."

"Jack."

The two men stopped in front of the elevator and Jack swiped his pass card through the slot with a sharp snick then stuck it back in his pants pocket.

"I can do quiet," insisted Daniel belligerently.

"No, you can't."

"Yes---I can."

Jack sighed then turned to the younger man. "You 'think' you're being quiet Daniel, but you're always doing---I don't know---something to make noise. That stuff scares the fish."

Daniel crossed his arms over his chest defiantly. "I do not---make noise."

"You mutter, you tap your fingers or your foot or you flat out talk," explained the colonel then he threw up his hands dramatically. "You're always 'doing' something."

"Well, 'you' wouldn't make a good archeologist."

"Oh for crying out loud, Daniel, you look at rocks."

The elevator door slid aside and Daniel entered then turned to face the closing door, his arms still folded over his chest. "They're artifacts, Jack---history, delicate pieces of ancient civilizations---."

"Yadda yadda," muttered Jack as he punched the button for level twenty-two.

"History," repeated Daniel firmly. "With those things you call hands you'd break everything you touched."

Jack raised his hands and looked at them. "What's wrong with my hands?"

Daniel sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose displacing his glasses slightly. "Oh, never mind," he replied.

The elevator door slid opened and Jack stepped out, Daniel right on his heels. The two men walked toward the commissary side by side.

"I have strong working hands, Daniel, not---scholarly ones."

"Scholarly ones? What the hell does that mean?" asked the archeologist as he pushed through the door into the commissary.

"Geek hands?"

"Geek hands," repeated Daniel indignantly. "I don't have geek hands, Jack. Here, feel these calluses."

Jack turned and gazed down at Daniel's proffered hands then ran a tentative finger over one of the palms. "Yep, soft as a baby's butt---geek hands."

"Hey Colonel---Daniel," greeted Samantha Carter from one of the tables.

"Hey, Sam."

"Carter."

"So what are you two arguing about now?" asked the major.

Daniel exchanged a perplexed look with Jack. "Arguing?" he repeated.

"We're not arguing, Carter," denied Jack.

"It appeared to be arguing to me as well, Major Carter," said Teal'c as he took a seat directly across from his team mate.

Jack waggled a finger between himself and Daniel. "No, no---this isn't arguing, this is friendly debate."

"Oh," said Sam with a nod. "I see, sir. You're debating Daniel."

"Yeah, and winning, I might add."

Daniel scowled at Jack's departing back. "You are 'not' winning," he grumbled. "You can't 'win' when there's no debate."

"Oh, I am 'so' winning, Daniel---face it."

The archeologist rolled his eyes then followed his friend to the food counter.

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CONTINUED

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	2. Chapter 2

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CHAPTER TWO

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Sam watched in amusement as O'Neill and Daniel continued their bickering, collecting their lunch and never skipping a beat. She shook her head; beneath all the arguing---or debating, Sam amended---was a level of comfort and trust, a deep abiding friendship that she wished she had with someone. What the two men shared they shared with no one else, not even with Sam and Teal'c. Their relationship was special, forged years ago when they'd stepped through the Stargate for the first time onto an alien world.

"So we're in agreement then," said O'Neill as he approached Sam's table with Daniel in tow. "You share some of your rock and squiggle wisdom with me and I'll share my fishing expertise with you."

"Agreed."

The colonel sat down next to Teal'c while Daniel sat next to Sam then both men took bites from their respective sandwiches.

O'Neill scowled. "So what are you two still doing here?" he asked around a mouthful of ham and cheese.

"Our female bonding ritual was postponed due to illness," replied Teal'c.

"Oh?"

Sam smiled and shook her head at her big friend. "Cassie's sick, sir, so Janet needs to stay with her," she explained. "What are you two still doing here?"

"We're 'gating out with SG-11 this afternoon," replied Daniel.

"To PJ6-877? I heard they'd found naquada in those caves where Keltar---I mean Korra was hiding. They think this might be a big find."

O'Neill waved a dismissive hand. "Yeah, well, that's all very nice for them, but Daniel is going to explore some altar thingy and me? I'm going fishing."

Sam exchanged a glance with Teal'c. "So do you mind if Teal'c and I join you, sir? I'd really love to study the plant life, maybe take some soil samples."

"And I could lend my assistance as needed," interjected Teal'c.

"Okay with me," replied the colonel. "Daniel?"

"Fine with me," said the archeologist with a shrug. He glanced at the big Jaffa warrior. "You were really going to go through with it, the---um---female bonding ritual?"

Sam slapped Daniel's arm. "Hey, you've joined us before and if I remember correctly, you had a pretty good time, too."

O'Neill looked expectantly at the younger man. "Daniel?"

"Well, um---."

"'Well um' what?"

"Sam and Janet made me?"

"Daniel," scolded Sam. "We invited you and you said yes."

"There is no shame in the desire to understand the female Tau'ri better, Daniel Jackson."

Sam looked up at Teal'c. "Thank you."

"We have both experienced O'Neill's male bonding rituals on many occasions so it only seems appropriate to explore the female side as well, does it not?"

O'Neill still stared at the red-faced archeologist, his brows arched high on his forehead. "Daniel?"

"Oh, look at the time," blurted Daniel. He rose to his feet only to have O'Neill grab his wrist staying him.

"We still have three hours, Daniel. Sit---eat."

"I am curious, Daniel Jackson," continued Teal'c as the younger man reluctantly retook his seat. "What are the differences between the two rituals?"

Daniel canted his head, his blue eyes fixed on his tuna sandwich. "Well---um," he began.

"Yes, Daniel---do tell," prompted the colonel.

Sam smiled as she watched her younger friend poke at his sandwich with his finger.

"Do the females imbibe alcoholic beverages?" asked Teal'c.

"Yeah, except instead of cheap beer, they drink fine wine."

"Do they take nourishment?"

Daniel nodded. "Not pizza, though. We had a lovely selection of couscous and---," he faltered as his eyes met O'Neill's amused ones.

"Lovely?" repeated the older man. "And that beer wasn't cheap, by the way."

"Do they have competitions in---belching and flatulence?"

Sam choked on the sip of water she'd taken.

"Teal'c," admonished O'Neill sharply from one side of his mouth.

"No," said Daniel. "No competitions, Teal'c. Just good conversation---and movies, of course."

The big Jaffa tilted his head. "I am inclined to believe I would enjoy the female bonding ritual more so than the male."

O'Neill dropped his fork and it clattered on his plate. "Oh come on, big guy. You mean to tell me you didn't enjoy yourself at my place?"

"I am not saying that at all, O'Neill. Your gathering was indeed enjoyable if not a bit---disconcerting."

"Disconcerting?"

"Daniel Jackson's belching ability was most impressive, however, your ability to---."

"Uh, Teal'c," interrupted the colonel uncomfortably. "Not in the company of a lady, okay?"

"Oh, I've heard it all, sir," chortled Sam. "Literally---except for Daniel's belching ability. I had no idea." She turned to look at her friend to see his cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

The archeologist shrugged. "I had one too many beers," he muttered.

"Well you certainly surprised the hell out of me," announced O'Neill. "Where did you learn to do that and more importantly---why?"

Daniel smiled, his eyes remaining downcast. "When I was little, I spent a lot of time with one of my parents' assistants. His name was Yousaf. He and I used to have these---um---competitions, much to my mother's chagrin, I might add."

"Where is he now?" asked Sam.

Daniel's brows puckered. "He died when I was six," he replied uneasily. "In his sleep. He just---didn't wake up one morning."

"I'm sorry."

"It was a long time ago, Sam."

A silence fell over the table and Sam glanced at O'Neill, the colonel's sympathetic gaze fixed on their younger friend. She reached over and gently rubbed Daniel's back and was rewarded with a small grateful smile.

The archeologist stood and gathered up the remains of his lunch. "You know, I really have a lot to do before we leave, so if you'll excuse me---."

"Daniel?"

"Yeah, Jack."

O'Neill hitched his head to the side and eyed the younger man worriedly, but said nothing.

Daniel smiled and nodded. "I'll see you later," he replied then turned and walked away.

The colonel sighed then peered down at his half-eaten lunch. "So just so I'm straight on this," he said finally. "We have three days of down-time, three days of freedom from work to do whatever the hell we want---and we're going off-world with Daniel."

"That sounds about right to me, sir," replied Sam.

"I concur."

"Okay, just checking," said O'Neill. He lifted his eyes to look at the door through which Daniel had just passed then refocused on his meal again.

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SG-11 was a raucous bunch; Jack had to give them that. He sat on a log next to the fire listening to Major Frank Hawkins regale them all with stories from boot camp. Everyone was laughing and having a good time including Carter. Teal'c, well Jack thought Teal'c look bemused more than anything else.

Jack turned his head to the young man sitting next to him. Daniel was definitely in a different world than the rest of them at that moment, staring silently into the leaping flames. Then suddenly he rose to his feet and walked quickly out of camp.

"Sir?" prompted Carter on Jack's other side.

"I'll go," replied the colonel quietly. He stood up then followed the younger man out into the night.

The air was crisp and cool, but not uncomfortably cold, the sky overhead crystal clear. He'd only walked a little ways from camp when he came upon Daniel just stretching out on his back on a grassy knoll. Without a word, Jack lowered himself down at his friend's side, pillowed his head on his hands and stared up at the nightscape above him.

"I used to do this with my dad," said Daniel suddenly, his voice so hushed Jack had to strain to hear it.

"Oh, yeah?"

"Yeah---we'd lie out under the stars and he'd show me all the constellations, tell me their stories."

"I did the same thing with Charlie when I took him up to the cabin. I guess all dads do that with their sons."

"I hope so," replied the archeologist wistfully. "When we came back to the States, to New York, I remember how sad I was that we couldn't do this anymore."

"Ah, yeah---all the big city lights."

"Couldn't see a damned thing."

"How long were you in New York, you know---before?"

"Before the---the accident? Only a week or so, I think. It seemed like longer than that to me."

"You were a little kid, Daniel, and apparently none too pleased to be there."

"It wasn't so bad---because they were there with me. After, though---well let's just say everything changed."

Daniel fell silent for a long moment and Jack could hear his uneven breathing as he struggled with his raw emotions, the loss of his wife exposing old hurts. He understood; it still hurt like hell to talk about Charlie. Sometimes the grief could still drop him to his knees.

"That first night in the orphanage, after---I remember curling up in my bed as tight as I could. I thought if I could make myself small enough, they'd forget about me, leave me alone---maybe I could disappear until my parents came back or----well, until someone came back for me. Sometimes I still feel like doing that, you know---disappearing?"

"Geez, Daniel---."

"God, I don't know why I said that; it was stupid. I'm sorry." Daniel sat up and removed his glasses, scrubbing one hand over his face. "What's wrong with me, Jack?" he implored. "I thought all of this was behind me, but losing Sha're---well---."

"Opened up old wounds---its normal, Daniel, there's no rule book that comes with grief," said Jack as he sat up at his friend's side. "I was all over the map after Charlie died, but then---I guess you know that already."

Daniel sighed, put his glasses back on then turned his face up to the stars again. "Thanks for coming here with me, Jack. I really thought I wanted to be alone, but---." He shrugged one shoulder.

"Hey, I'm here for the fishing, Dannyboy."

The archeologist turned his head and a slight smile curved his lips. "Yeah, and I am 'so' looking forward to your lessons, too."

Jack reached over and ruffled his friend's hair playfully. "Probably as much as I'm looking forward to staring at scribbles for hours on end," he retorted without rancor. He squeezed the younger man's nape. "Come on, let's get back before Carter and Teal'c organize a search and rescue."

Daniel nodded then pushed himself to his feet and reached a hand down to help Jack up. The older man took the proffered hand then stood. He took one more look up at the stars then adjusted his cap and turned back toward camp, his friend at his side.

The next morning Jack found himself sitting uncomfortably on the dirt-covered floor of a dilapidated old stone altar, brushing away debris from some intricately carved chicken-scratching.

"Gently," admonished Daniel who sat cross-legged beside the colonel watching his every move like a hawk. "No, no---don't dig, Jack---brush."

"Oh for crying out loud," muttered the older man derisively.

"Look at Teal'c, Jack. See how he's being so gentle? And Sam---look at the way she's caressing---.

"Daniel, so help me," grumbled Jack roughly. "I am 'not' going to caress a wall." He shifted on his haunches and grimaced. "How the hell do you do this all day, anyway?"

"I am finding it quite relaxing, O'Neill," announced Teal'c. The big man sat on Jack's other side, his movements oddly graceful and delicate as he concentrated on several particularly elaborate inscriptions.

"So am I, Colonel. Just slow down and---," began Carter.

"It's a wall, Carter---a 'rock' wall."

"Is 'this' the gentle touch you told me about, Jack?"

"It's a rock wall," repeated the colonel incredulously, his voice pitched a bit higher than he intended.

"It is someone's history, O'Neill."

"Teal'c---."

"What do these mean, Daniel?" interrupted Carter. She sat back and looked at the wall before her, her head canted to one side as she studied the exposed shapes.

Daniel turned his head away from Jack to his other side and reached out a hand, his long fingers immediately ghosting a hair's breadth above the symbols. "Oh," he said with a scowl. "Wow."

"What is it?" asked Jack.

"Um---," began the archeologist narrowing his eyes. "I think it's an evil spirit---a demon."

"In what context is this demon depicted, Daniel Jackson?"

"I'm not sure, actually. I need to see all of the shapes at once in order to decipher their meaning. You see each symbol is a syllable---."

"There's not much here," interrupted Jack earning him a scowl from his archeologist. He leaned back and regarded the entire wall. "Guess these folks didn't have much of a history, eh?"

Daniel pushed himself to his feet then absently brushed his hands over the seat of his pants to wipe away the accumulated dust and debris which clung to them. He moved to the top of the stairs opposite the wall then turned and stared back, sliding his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as he did.

Carter, Teal'c and Jack all scrambled to their feet and joined the archeologist.

"Well?" prompted Jack as he narrowed his eyes at the line of intricate symbols. He turned slightly and leaned his head way over to one side. "What's it say?"

"It's a warning."

"Now how did I know you were going to say that?"

Daniel cast Jack a quick but sardonic glance.

"Of what does it warn, Daniel Jackson?"

The archeologist frowned. "That can't be right," he muttered almost to himself then his eyes darted to his companions. "It says this is a---a prison and that all who enter should be wary."

"A prison?" repeated Carter.

"There's no one here, Daniel," announced Jack as he straightened. "You sure you're reading that stuff right?" He looked around the little altar, opened on all sides except for the side he was currently facing. "No bars, no prisoners---." He waved a hand absently. "A nice view---."

"No, it definitely says 'prison', Jack," replied the younger man assuredly. "Traveler be warned; here stands the prison of the demon of Chege."

"Chege?"

"I'm assuming that's where he or she---or maybe even 'it', came from, Sam."

"Sweet," grumbled Jack. He turned a full circle; nope, certainly didn't appear to be a prison to him. He took off his cap and scrubbed his fingers back and forth through his graying hair then put it back on with a sharp tug. "Well we came, we 'caressed' and now it's time for some real fun. Who's up for some fishing?"

"I was planning to take some soil samples when I finished here, sir," replied Carter. "And study the plant life. It's really quite unique in its---."

"Teal'c, you up for some fishing, big guy?" interrupted the colonel.

"I will accompany Major Carter, O'Neill."

Daniel looked dumbfounded. "That's it?" he squeaked. "Guys, aren't you the least bit curious here?"

"You'd rather look at dirt and weeds than fish?" asked Jack, staring first at the major and then his Jaffa friend, his expression incredulous.

Carter shrugged and Teal'c clasped his hands at the small of his back and canted his head, one brow twitching upward.

"Well, Daniel---I guess it's just you and me then. Now the pupil becomes the teacher."

"Jack---."

"I've already got the bait---dug them up in my flower bed---."

"Jack."

"Of course I brought some lures, too."

"Jack!"

The colonel looked at his young friend with empathy. "Daniel, there's 'nothing' here."

Daniel held Jack's gaze for a moment then he looked down. "I'll just stay for a while," he replied. "I'll join you later, okay?"

"Daniel."

"I won't be long. I just want to make some etchings."

"I will remain and assist you, Daniel Jackson," intoned Teal'c.

"I can stay, too, Daniel," offered Carter.

The archeologist smiled. "No, you guys have been tortured enough---thank you for that, by the way." He motioned absently toward the wall. "But I know you have no interest in this stuff. It's okay---really."

Jack regarded his friend for a long moment then he reached out and squeezed Daniel's shoulder. "I'll try to save some fish for you."

Daniel ducked his head and smiled. "After witnessing your 'gentle' touch, Jack, you won't have to try very hard."

"Hey!"

"I concur, O'Neill."

"Teal'c---aht," said the colonel sharply, his index finger extended. "Not a word, Carter---not one word."

"But I wasn't going to say anything, sir," replied Carter innocently then she winked at Daniel.

Jack shook his head. "Sometimes I wonder just who's in charge here," he grumbled.

"Why---that would be you, Jack," stated Daniel then he covered his mouth with his hand. "Not," he muttered.

Carter snorted and Teal'c canted an amused brow.

"No respect," declared Jack with a dramatic flop of his hands. "I get no respect."

"Go fish, Jack."

"Are you certain you do not require assistance, Daniel Jackson?"

"I'm sure, Teal'c, but thanks."

Carter reached out and rubbed Daniel's arm. "See you later then, okay?"

The archeologist nodded. "At lunch."

Jack watched as his second-in-command and his warrior friend moved down the stone steps to begin their trek across the small clearing in which the altar stood. He turned back to Daniel and regarded the younger man speculatively.

"What?" demanded the archeologist. He knelt by his backpack and rifled around in its innards apparently searching for something. "I'm used to doing this stuff alone."

"I can stay, you know."

Daniel shrugged. "Go fish, Jack. This will only take me a few minutes then I'll do my darnedest to soak up all your---um---expertise." He pulled out a field journal, set it on the stone floor then dug in his pack for something else.

Jack turned to go then cast a final look over his shoulder. Daniel was still busy digging around in his over-stuffed pack. The colonel shook his head with affection; Daniel never needed half the stuff he toted around with him.

The archeologist pulled out a hard-covered folder and held it up triumphantly. "Here you are," he announced then his eyes found Jack's. "You still here?"

"Just on my way---I'll have your fishing pole waiting, but 'you' get to bait the hook."

"Bait the hook?" gulped the young man.

"Oh, it's great, Daniel and its all part of the exhilarating experience that is fishing."

Daniel bobbed his head slowly. "Right---exhilarating---gotcha."

The colonel hitched his head and grinned. "Don't take too long." Then he left his friend and headed to the crystal blue pond that bordered one side of the little clearing, his brown eyes already focused intently on the fishing gear he'd left there earlier.

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CONTINUED

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	3. Chapter 3

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CHAPTER THREE

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"You okay, Teal'c?"

The big Jaffa looked down at his team mate. "I am well, Major Carter."

"You seem---distracted."

"I am not."

The woman pursed her lips then nodded once. "Okay," she replied simply.

Teal'c lifted his chin and clasped his hands behind his back as he walked. He'd left his staff weapon at the encampment that morning much to his unease, but O'Neill had insisted that no one carried a staff weapon on one's down-time.

He turned his head slightly to see the altar behind him.

"He'll be fine, Teal'c."

"Perhaps I should return."

"Daniel said he didn't need anymore help," replied the major. "And maybe he just wants a little time alone."

"Daniel Jackson has spent much of his time---alone recently, Major Carter."

"I've noticed. I've tried to get him to talk, but he just won't."

"As have I," said Teal'c dejectedly. He turned his attention back to the approaching tree line.

"He doesn't blame you, Teal'c."

The Jaffa inhaled deeply through his nose and raised his chin. "Perhaps he should."

Major Carter shook her head adamantly. "Daniel said you did the right thing."

"By terminating the life of Sha're."

"You did what you had to do, Teal'c and I, for one am grateful you made the choice you did. I know the colonel and everyone at the SGC agrees and even though Daniel doesn't necessarily 'agree', he understands."

"I have brought nothing but pain to Daniel Jackson, Major Carter, and yet he still offers me his trust and his friendship. I do not believe I am worthy of either."

"Teal'c---."

Teal'c abruptly halted his stride. "I will return to the altar."

Major Carter stopped and turned, her blue eyes full of empathy. "I'll see you at the camp later then," she replied without argument.

Teal'c bowed his head in acknowledgment then turned and strode back toward the altar. Since discovering that he'd been responsible for Sha're's fate from the beginning, he'd felt it not just his duty to watch over Daniel Jackson, but his distinct honor. The archeologist had been wary of Teal'c upon their initial meeting, but he'd never been angry at him. The Jaffa warrior wondered at his young friend's capacity to see beyond his own feelings, to honestly feel compassion for the man who'd cost him his beloved wife. They'd formed a friendship out of tragedy, a bond of brotherhood, and Teal'c felt it his privilege to protect that treasured bond.

"Hey, wait up!"

The Jaffa slowed his steps so that the major could join him.

"Figured maybe I'd go back, too."

Teal'c felt his lips curve slightly. "Indeed," he replied.

As he approached the altar, the Jaffa narrowed his eyes; he could see Daniel Jackson's backpack resting on the stone floor, a field journal lying next to it, but he saw no sign of the archeologist.

Teal'c fingered the radio tucked in his vest pocket. "O'Neill," he said. "Is Daniel Jackson with you?"

"Uh---no, he's at the altar."

"He is not. We have returned to find only his gear present."

"What?"

Teal'c turned and from where he stood, he could see O'Neill standing at the edge of the pond a good distance away.

"We seriously need to consider leashing that boy," muttered the colonel. "He's got to be there somewhere, Teal'c. We just left him a couple minutes ago. Maybe he ducked into the bushes for a---a break."

While Major Carter walked around the perimeter of the altar calling for Daniel Jackson, Teal'c moved forward and stepped up onto the stone floor. He froze; lying at the base of the wall were the archeologist's etching papers, strewn haphazardly about as if they'd just been dropped suddenly.

"He's not here," announced the major as she joined Teal'c near the wall. "Oh, my God." She knelt and pulled at one of the delicate sheets of paper. "Get the colonel, Teal'c, hurry."

Teal'c fingered his radio again. "O'Neill, your presence is required at the altar immediately."

"Roger that."

The Jaffa turned his head and watched as the colonel discarded the fishing apparatus he'd been holding and headed toward him at a dead run.

"How can this be?" wondered Major Carter.

Teal'c turned back to his team mate and knelt at her side. She was gripping one end of a single piece of paper, the other end caught seemingly within the wall. He lifted his gaze to the inscriptions and swallowed convulsively, the warning Daniel Jackson had read echoing through his mind.

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Daniel awoke slowly, aware of only the cold floor beneath him and the throbbing of his head.

"I apologize our first meeting wasn't under better circumstances."

The archeologist blinked into the gloom to see the outline of a very big man standing in the door way. He sat up, his eyes adjusting to the minimal light shining through high narrow windows.

The man stepped forward. "Allow me to introduce myself," he greeted. "I am Areszeus." He bowed his head slightly. "Also known as the demon of Chege---although I think that's a tad overdramatic." He shrugged broad, powerful shoulders. "You kill a few people and you're labeled a demon---now does that sound fair to you?"

Daniel's eyes widened. "I---um---really don't think the killing had anything to do with that label," he stammered out.

Areszeus smiled, displaying a row of pointed yellow teeth. "Are you inferring that I resemble a demon?" he asked. "A bald head and pointed ears do not a demon make."

"Maybe it's the---um---," began the archeologist as he circled his hand. "The clawed hands and the red eyes then?"

The demon appeared to ponder Daniel's words then he smiled again. "Perhaps you're right."

Areszeus stepped forward and the archeologist shifted quickly backwards on his haunches, a gut reaction to the size and breadth of the creature looming over him; the demon was at least a half foot taller than Teal'c.

"There's really no need to be afraid of me."

"How did I get here?"

"I brought you here."

"Uh---why?"

"You were able to read the warning," replied the demon simply.

Daniel swallowed convulsively. "Then this is your---your prison?"

Areszeus sighed dramatically. "Yes, yes I'm afraid it is. Interior decorators the Chegen were not."

The archeologist shuddered, a cold fear knotting in his stomach. "Where is this place?" he asked.

"I call it the---Realm of Infinite Darkness," replied the demon with theatrical flare. "Which as you'll notice isn't 'exactly' an apt description. There is always a minute amount of light shining through my windows."

"So I've noticed."

"The wall you've currently got yourself pressed against is the same wall you were staring at with such single-mindedness earlier. Well---the other side of it anyway."

"Then my friends are---?"

Areszeus raised a hand in front of his broad chest and appraised his long hooked claws admiringly. "They're not on the other side of the wall, if that's what you're thinking. Well, they are, but not in the way you might hope. You're no longer in their realm, boy. You're with me now."

Daniel felt the knot of fear tighten further. "Why?"

In a blur the demon reached down and gripped Daniel's neck. "You are here to free me," he hissed. He lifted the archeologist easily off the ground and drew him close, so close Daniel could smell the rancid breath gusting over his face.

"Uh---no, I don't think so," choked out the young man, his own fingers helplessly scrabbling at the ones clamped around his throat.

Areszeus smiled but his red eyes flared with anger. "Yes you will or this realm will be your final resting place."

Before Daniel could prepare, he felt his body tossed like a rag doll against the hard stone wall. He slid to the floor gasping for the breath that had been knocked from him.

Areszeus knelt in front of the archeologist drawing claws down the rock as he bent. "I am not an evil sort, boy," he cooed. "I only want my freedom." He reached out and gently brushed Daniel's light fringe of bangs off the young man's forehead. "And you can give it to me."

Daniel cleared his throat. "If you were able to pull me into this realm through the wall, why can't you just leave it? Why do you need me?"

"It would kill me," replied Areszeus. He raised his other hand and pulled back the deep red fabric of his robe.

Daniel swallowed the bile that threatened to rise; the hand and forearm were horribly scarred, fresh burns oozing, shining sickeningly in the gloom. The smell of charred flesh assailed Daniel's nostrils and he choked.

"The Chegen had wonderful senses of humor," continued Areszeus mildly. "However they underestimated my threshold of pain and the lengths that I would go to in order to gain my freedom." He stared wonderingly at his damaged skin. "Not many have visited my altar, but I've watched those who have."

"You see through the wall?"

"Of course," replied the demon incredulously. "Those who seem to understand the warning are invited to join me---like you were---although my guess is you aren't entirely 'thrilled' with the invitation."

"Good guess."

"Come with me."

The archeologist was yanked up off his haunches by a strength and ease that scared him. Areszeus all but dragged him out of the room by one arm and down a long dark dank corridor, the walls glistening with moisture. The smell was foul, the air heavy with mildew and death.

The demon hauled Daniel down a long row of stone steps at the bottom of which was a large opened cavern. The smell of decay was far worse and when Daniel saw the reason, he balked. Sitting against one wall was what remained of a man's body, his rotting legs splayed out before him, his head lolled awkwardly to one side. Beside him were two other bodies, the whiteness of their bare bones standing out stark against the cold dark stone behind them.

"Oh, God."

"Oh, don't mind them," said the demon with a dismissive wave of his injured hand. "They won't bother you."

"The others who were---'invited', I take it?"

Areszeus scowled. "The woman there, the one furthest to the left, she lasted the longest although she couldn't decipher the inscriptions she uncovered. The other two were simply wastes of my time."

"Inscriptions?"

The demon pulled Daniel toward the far wall opposite the steps. "These inscriptions," he said.

The archeologist narrowed his eyes in the gloom and saw a row of exposed symbols in the identical language in which the Chegen's warning had been written.

"This is my way out," announced Areszeus as he pointed his finger at the wall. "And this is how you will help me." He released his grip on Daniel's arm then clamped the hand over the young man's shoulder, the claws digging through the fabric of jacket and shirt to puncture the bare skin below.

"You want me to uncover the inscriptions?" gritted out the archeologist.

"Then decipher them, yes."

"You could do this," replied Daniel incredulously then he gasped, dropping to his knees as the claws dug deeper.

Areszeus bent to Daniel's ear. "Yet another example of Chegen humor, boy," he hissed. "I can't touch this wall---it's like touching an open flame for me. Only those from the other realms can touch it---those like you and the Chege. They put the inscriptions beneath this facade, told me it was my way out---knowing I could do absolutely nothing to get to it. And even if I did manage to expose their fancy words, theirs is a language I can not read."

Daniel clenched his jaw against the pain in his shoulder. "And you believed them?"

"As honest as you'll find, the Chegen were. They assured me their words would ease the fabric which separates this realm from yours to allow passage out." He drew closer, his breath hot and moist against Daniel's ear. "And they called 'me' evil. I've been here for over two hundred years, boy, with my means of escape staring me in the face every single day."

"You'll have to stare for a couple hundred more then because I won't help you."

Areszeus tightened his grip on the archeologist's shoulder. "You will, boy, or you will know pain the likes of which you've never endured before. You will stay down here. I will provide you with nourishment and water. You will not rest until I am able to step through that wall into your realm, is that clear?"

"I won't do it."

"Then perhaps one of your friends would---perhaps the pretty female. She's at the altar now; all I have to do is simply reach through---."

"Don't."

The demon shoved Daniel forward with frightening strength. "Then get busy, boy," he demanded. "I will return later to check on your progress. If I am not satisfied then you will suffer." He placed a gentle hand on the back of Daniel's head, his fingers carding through the short-cropped hair. "I want my freedom," he continued, his voice suddenly kind. "Can't you understand that?"

"Yes, I can," replied the archeologist truthfully.

Areszeus patted Daniel's head. "Then I suggest you get started."

The young man turned to watch the demon stride across the cavern then listened to his heavy footfalls as he climbed the stone steps. His gaze moved to the three bodies against the wall and he suddenly realized that would be his fate; to die alone in a cold dark world, in a realm his friends had no hope of reaching.

Daniel turned and sat, his hand moving to his blood-soaked shoulder. He dropped his head back against the exposed inscriptions and closed his eyes, knowing no matter what happened he would never---could never---release Areszeus from his prison.

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"So you're saying Dr. Jackson is in another---dimension? But how is that possible?"

Jack frowned at the MALP camera. "Beats me, sir, but that's what Carter thinks," he replied. "And frankly I think she's right; Daniel isn't here---here, here that is."

"Then the altar was---'is' a prison."

"That's what it's looking like, sir, yes."

"Colonel---."

Jack rubbed at the back of his neck. "I know, sir. It doesn't look good."

"Does Major Carter have any ideas?"

"Not at this time, General, but I was thinking---the Tollan. They have those wrist thingies that enable them to pass through solid walls and Omac took a real liking to Daniel. Maybe there's some way they can get to him."

"We have no way to contact the Tollan, Colonel."

"Then maybe we can get word to the Asgard. They're worlds ahead of us as far as technology goes. Maybe they have something that'll help."

"I'll try, Colonel."

"Don't try---," began Jack tersely then he sighed. "Sorry, General, it's just that---."

"I know, Jack," replied Hammond, his voice kind.

"Where Daniel is, sir---we can't help him. Hell, we don't even know if he's alive."

"We'll get him back, Jack. I'll send word out to the Tok'ra, I'll do anything and everything I can---you know that."

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir."

"I'll talk to you in two hours---maybe we'll have some good news by then. Hammond out."

Jack rubbed at his forehead. Daniel had already been gone three hours and he didn't know if he could go two more without any hope at all of finding his friend and bringing him home. He'd initially been unable to believe what Carter had told him; that Daniel was in another dimension. Along with Teal'c and SG-11, he'd searched the surrounding forest, even the shallow pond for the missing archeologist but to no avail.

Daniel was gone.

The colonel turned, his hands resting on the top of his P-90 which hung around his shoulders, and headed back to the altar. Why couldn't he have just stayed those few more minutes, he chastised himself as he walked. If he'd just stayed, then maybe he could have saved Daniel or at the very least, been taken with him.

He shook his head. Daniel was more than likely with some sort of an evil spirit and he was alone. Jack wondered what was happening to his friend at that moment, if he was still alive or if he was hurt and confused, wondering where his team mates were, wondering where Jack was. The young man had always relied on Jack, trusted Jack, and the colonel had promised himself after their first mission to Abydos that he would always be there to help his friend. And for the most part, he'd managed to keep that promise.

Except for this day; Jack had failed miserably on this day.

"What did General Hammond say, sir?"

Jack returned abruptly from his reverie to see Carter approaching him from the altar. He was only slightly surprised to find he had no real memory of crossing the two miles from the Stargate, so lost he'd been in his own thoughts.

The major fell into step at Jack's side, her worried blue eyes imploring him to give her good news.

"Not much, I'm afraid," the colonel replied. "He's putting word out to our allies and hopefully someone can get in touch with the Tollan or the Nox."

Carter pursed her lips and nodded. "It's a long shot, sir, but it's all we have right now."

"Damn it, Daniel," muttered Jack. "Where the hell are you?"

"Hawkins and SG-11 are packing up the camp and moving it here just in case---well, just in case Daniel comes back on his own, sir."

"Good."

"Sir, Narim left a device with me when he left, a sort of recorder. Maybe I can MacGyver it somehow, figure out a way to send out a signal with it."

"Do you really think a 'recorder' can be jerry-rigged, Major?"

Carter shook her head, her eyes downcast. "No, sir, but---I'm useless here, sir. If there's even the slightest chance I can understand the Tollan technology, maybe---."

Jack waved an impatient hand. "Go," he said sharply. "Just go then---MacGyver away, Carter."

"Yes, sir."

The colonel yanked his cap off and scrubbed his fingers through his short-cropped hair in frustration. He watched his second-in-command pick up her pack from where she'd left it propped against the altar steps; if anyone could find a way into another dimension, he knew it would be Carter. He gave her a tight smile as she passed him, slinging her pack up on her shoulders as she moved then Jack climbed the steps up onto the altar.

"O'Neill," greeted Teal'c solemnly.

"Whatcha doing, big guy?"

Teal'c lifted his chin and looked down his nose at the inscriptions on the wall, one hand gripping his staff weapon, his stance relaxed but ready. "I am waiting," he replied simply.

Jack moved to his friend's side, putting his cap back on with a harsh tug. "I'll wait with you if you don't mind."

"I do not."

The colonel gripped his P-90 and stared at the wall before him, the wall of a prison that held his friend somewhere nearby---yet so damned far away.

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Daniel sat back on his heels and eyed what was already exposed of the inscriptions. His insatiable curiosity was urging him to uncover more and he lifted a hand to ghost his fingertips over the last symbol, his fingers moving to touch the covering stone that hid the rest of the words from view. Then he dropped his hand back to his lap; he couldn't.

The archeologist pushed himself to his feet, the pain in his shoulder jolting him. Areszeus had clearly dug his claws deep, the warmth of the still oozing blood heating the palm of Daniel's hand as he reached to cover the wound beneath his jacket. The demon had told him he'd provide water and food and Daniel knew his first job would be to clean his injury; well, he amended, if Areszeus didn't kill him outright for not doing as he was told.

His eyes moved to the three bodies against the wall. He knew the first was female even before the demon had told him; the skeleton sharing its gender all too clearly. The second body wasn't humanoid, the spine elongated and curved. The being had been tall, at least as tall as Areszeus and Daniel wondered if he---she or possibly it had fought back. The third body was still all too clearly male and very much human. Daniel shook his head; three beings snatched from their lives into a world of death and gloom.

The archeologist turned his gaze from the corpses to look around the cavern. Against the opposite wall from the bodies was a cot, obviously the place where Areszeus allowed his 'visitors' to rest. Above the cot was a narrow window through which shone only a fragment of light. Daniel canted his head; he'd thought he was underground when the demon had brought him down the long staircase, but apparently he'd been wrong. He crossed the short distance to the cot then put a foot up on it, testing its strength. Tentatively, Daniel stood on the little bed, his feet placed on the supports. He craned his neck to see out the window.

"Oh, no."

The realization that Daniel was in another realm hit him like a physical blow. There was no 'outside' world, only swirling masses of black mist blowing over nothingness. In the endless sky hung two large moons, but their light shone over no land and no bodies of water, they only lit the prison in which Daniel was trapped.

"I've tried to complain about the view, but no one listens."

Daniel turned abruptly at the voice as he stumbled clumsily off the cot.

Areszeus' gaze moved to the inscriptions and anger flared in his red eyes. "You have not done as you were told," he hissed.

"I won't help you," replied Daniel with an air of defiance he had to fight to conjure.

The demon dropped off the final step and moved across the cavern with a grace that surprised the archeologist. He snatched Daniel by the throat with his burned hand and literally ripped the young man's jacket off with his other. Brutally and with unfathomable strength, Areszeus lifted Daniel from the ground, his eyes boring into the archeologist's as he crossed to where the bodies lay. He slammed Daniel against the wall with a force that made the young man yelp then turned him face first into the wall.

"You could have made this easy, boy."

"I've been told that I never make anything easy," replied Daniel. He struggled against the demon, the sound of snapping bones reaching his ears as his feet trampled on the skeleton beneath them. His wrists were forced into shackles embedded into the rock wall and stupidly Daniel could only think of how Jack would consider such an act so cliché.

The pain of the first strike against his back cleared that thought immediately; clichéd or not, the sting was very real.

The assault continued until Daniel could no longer hold himself up, his aching wrists taking his full weight as he collapsed. Then he felt a gentle hand on his nape then long fingers carding through his sweat-soaked hair; he closed his eyes to stop the sudden rush of tears.

"I don't want to hurt you, boy," whispered Areszeus kindly. "I didn't want to hurt any of you, but you left me no choice. I want my freedom."

Daniel opened his eyes and silently cursed the moisture that escaped to roll unheeded down his cheeks.

"You will remain here," continued the demon softly, his fingers still moving through the archeologist's hair. "I will return later and hopefully with time to think, you will decide on your proper course of action." The fingers tightened and Areszeus yanked Daniel's head back viciously. "If you don't, then I will leave you here to rot with the others and move on to one of your friends from the outside, understood?"

"Yes."

The fingers gentled again and Areszeus kissed Daniel's temple as if forgiving a recalcitrant child, the act sending a chill prickling over the young man's skin; not only was the demon plainly evil, but very clearly insane as well.

"Good, boy."

Daniel closed his eyes again and listened to Areszeus' footfalls as they grew distant then silence descended over him once more. He placed his feet under his body and managed to take the weight from his wrists, a gasp of pain escaping through clenched teeth. He leaned his cheek against the damp wall and tried to slow his breathing.

Although the pain from his back was blinding, he could not feel the moisture of blood against the cotton of his tee shirt. Whatever Areszeus had used, it apparently hadn't cut through his flesh. The archeologist's shoulder protested as he shifted his weight and from the heat that dribbled down his side, he knew those wounds were no doubt still bleeding.

Tears threatened again and Daniel cursed himself aloud for his weakness. He'd grown used to having Jack at his side and Sam and Teal'c, too, and even though a small despicable part of him wished they were there, he was more than thankful they weren't. He'd been strong all his life, been able to find that well of fortitude required to face whatever life handed him and his current situation was just another in which he'd have to reach deep inside to tap into that reserve again.

If Daniel Jackson was anything, he was a survivor.

The archeologist opened his eyes and turned his head to rest his other cheek against the wet wall. His gaze fell on the partially exposed inscriptions. Jack had always told him he'd be lousy at poker because he just couldn't bluff his opponent.

As Daniel's eyes slid over the symbols, he really hoped his friend was wrong.

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CONTINUED

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	4. Chapter 4

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CHAPTER FOUR

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George sighed as he hung up the phone. He leaned forward on his desk, cradling his head in his hands; it wasn't right. They never left anyone behind.

The general stood from his chair, his body reminding him he hadn't rested in the twenty-four hours since Dr. Jackson's disappearance. He glanced at his watch then headed out into the darkened briefing room. He had yet to look forward to a check-in with the colonel and this one was no exception; there was no good news to share.

He stood at the big window that looked out over the 'gate room and sighed again. The Stargate loomed, a simple circle of stone that led to other worlds, other allies---other enemies. A portal to places George couldn't even imagine. Dr. Jackson was out there, he knew, but not on a world they could reach by a 'gate address. The young scientist was lost in a place they had no way of reaching.

"Sir?"

George started slightly and turned to see Carter standing at the top of the metal staircase that led up from the control room below.

"I didn't mean to disturb you, sir," continued the major.

"You didn't," replied George kindly. "What can I do for you, Major?"

Carter's eyes dropped to the floor. "I was just wondering if you'd heard from the Tok'ra or the Asgard, sir."

George shook his head. "Nothing yet, Major."

Carter pursed her lips. "I'm not having any luck with the Tollan device, General. It's so far beyond anything I've dealt with before---I'm usually very good at---but I just can't---." She faltered then stopped. "I'm sorry, sir."

"The President has ordered me to list Dr. Jackson as MIA. SG-11 is to return to the testing site."

The major's head shot up, her blue eyes incredulous. "What? But Daniel, sir, he's---."

George waved a placating hand. "He's not ordering me to leave the planet, Major---yet," he replied. "But his advisors are pushing him; they want naquada. SG-11 will stay on -877 to do 'thorough' testing of every inch of the caves; I'm assigning SG-1 to assist."

Carter closed her eyes in relief. "Thank you, sir."

"I'll keep our people there as long as I can, but if SG-11 doesn't get positive results---."

"Does Colonel O'Neill know, sir?"

"Not yet."

"With your permission, General, I'd like to return to -877. If you'd like, I can inform the colonel."

George smiled. "Permission granted but no Major, facing the wrath of one Colonel Jack O'Neill falls under my list of responsibilities. I'll let him know."

Carter clasped her hands behind her back and nodded. "Yes, sir," she replied then she turned to descend the stairs, hesitating briefly. "Sir?"

"I won't stop trying to reach our allies, Major. I want him back, too."

The major's worried gaze met George's. "Thank you, sir."

George turned back to the Stargate as Carter's metallic footfalls faded. Silence fell again, an eerie silence that prickled the general's skin, a heavy silence born of the weight of the mountain over his head.

He glanced at his watch again. He'd give Carter time to gear-up then head to the control room to see her off. He'd then inform his second-in-command that his own world had just classified his missing friend as irretrievable---lost with basically no hope of ever finding him.

George closed his eyes and threw up a silent prayer through the weight of the mountain and up into the cold gray sky to a God he fervently hoped was listening.

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"Sleep well?"

Daniel started then groaned as his shifting body sent shots of excruciating pain up his arms to his wrists. He fisted his hands and clenched his teeth against a wave of nausea.

"You look a tad uncomfortable there---let me help you."

The archeologist almost screamed as Areszeus unlocked one manacle releasing the torn flesh from its metal grip. He slowly lowered his arm, gasping and hissing as he did.

"Now the next one."

As it too was released, Daniel lowered his other torn wrist then wavered dangerously, wanting only to collapse at the demon's feet and curl up into a ball. He was surprised and repulsed when Areszeus guided him gently to sit on the cot.

The demon knelt before the young man and rested his clawed hands on Daniel's knees. "Lesson learned?" he asked.

Daniel nodded. "Yes."

Areszeus smiled. "Good, boy---now I've brought you something to eat---and some water, of course." He lifted a tray from the ground beside the cot and rested it on Daniel's lap.

The archeologist felt his stomach flip at the sight and smell of the so-called meal, but lifted the cup of water to his lips. He drank deeply then immediately turned and vomited on the floor next to Areszeus.

"Oh, my, my," said the demon. "That's just---vile."

Daniel bit his lower lip on a hysterical laugh. The creature before him who had killed countless people, who had brutalized Daniel, thought a little vomit was vile.

"It's a good thing you missed my robe, boy."

"Sorry."

"Sorry for the mess or sorry you missed my robe?"

Daniel looked up to meet the strangely amused red eyes. "You're in a good mood," he managed then he wiped his mouth and brought the cup of water back to his lips to take a hesitant sip.

"This day brings me closer to my freedom," replied the demon with a shrug. "Now you have a lot to do so you'd better eat up."

"Um---no---no thank you---not very hungry."

"Okay."

Daniel watched as the demon grabbed his bowl of gruel, dug his fingers into it and then dropped the glob into his mouth. His eyes closed in utter bliss and Daniel swallowed back another bout of nausea.

Areszeus opened his eyes and regarded the young man as he chewed. "In the beginning, I thought this was awful stuff, too, believe me, but after two hundred years of it, the imagination kicks in." He held the bowl up with a smile. "This morning I'm feasting on the hearts of the Chegen leader, Edlen."

"Hearts---as in more than one?"

"Yep---you'd think with two hearts, they'd be even more compassionate and forgiving, wouldn't you?"

"What 'are' you?" asked Daniel, his brows puckered in repulsion.

"Why, I'm the Demon of Chege, boy," replied Areszeus gleefully.

Daniel put the cup down and moved the tray off his lap onto the cot, his thirst quenched, but his stomach still roiling. "Where did you come from?"

Areszeus shrugged. "Everywhere, anywhere," he replied.

"That's not very helpful."

"Why does it matter, boy?"

"I suppose it really doesn't. I'm just curious."

The demon canted his head. "Curiosity can get you killed," he warned ominously then he smiled and shoveled more gruel into his mouth.

"Are you from my---um---realm?"

"I'm from everywhere. I'm the monster in the closet or under the bed, the creature in the dark who steals your children, the terror in the night---I'm everywhere and anywhere."

Daniel swallowed hard. He remembered the fear he'd had when he was a small child, could still feel the chill of it as he'd stared into the dark corner of his family's tent, certain that someone or something stared back, remembered the comfort of his mother's arms as she rocked him through the residual effects of his nightmares.

"You know me, boy," whispered Areszeus lowly, an eerie smile curving his thin lips. "Everyone knows me."

"Oh, God."

Areszeus continued to stare, his red eyes delving into Daniel's very soul and the archeologist shivered convulsively and looked away. He settled his gaze on the inscriptions carved into the wall. From what was already exposed, he knew the demon was right; it was a way out, a way to pull back the curtain between this world and Daniel's---a way to free the evil creature to wreak havoc once again.

"So what does it say?"

"Um," began Daniel, his voice unsteady to his own ears. He waved a hand in a dismissive gesture. "Not much actually."

"Not much?"

"All it says so far is 'beneath this stone lies a locked door'."

"Is that right."

"I'm guessing the 'how to unlock the locked door' part is still covered."

The demon set the bowl on the tray then placed his hands on Daniel's knees again, drawing the young man's attention back to him. "You better hope it is," he said evenly. "I'd hate for you to end up like them." He hitched his chin over his shoulder toward the corpses. "Now come on---I'll keep you company for a bit."

Daniel rose to his feet and immediately swayed.

"I told you you should have eaten something," admonished Areszeus. He took the young man's elbow. "Come on."

The archeologist balked. "I should clean up the---um---mess I made."

"Why?"

"Because?"

Areszeus smiled. "You'd be wise to put your worry where it's necessary, boy---now, come on."

Daniel pulled his elbow away from the demon without rancor and plodded across the cavern to stand before the wall, noting that Areszeus stayed hovering a couple feet back.

"Go ahead, boy---get started."

"Did they," began the archeologist with a wave of his hand toward the bodies. "Have any tools?"

"Do I look like a fool? Use your fingers."

"I can't---."

Areszeus shoved Daniel harshly in the back. "Use your---fingers," he demanded.

The young man squeezed his eyes shut against the pain that flared from his wounded back. He felt awful; his back, his shoulder, his wrists constant reminders of his treatment. His head throbbed incessantly and his stomach hadn't quit churning.

Slowly, Daniel raised his hands and carefully began breaking away the stone cover from the remaining symbols.

"Does it hurt?" asked the demon, his low voice sending a chill over Daniel's skin.

"Should it?"

"The others had burns on their fingers in varying degrees from touching the stone."

Daniel shook his head. "It's just---stone. How could it burn me?"

Areszeus laughed merrily. "Oh, you are the one, boy!" he exclaimed with a clap of his clawed hands. "You are going to free me!"

The archeologist cast a glance over his shoulder to see the demon almost dancing with his delight.

"You are the one---finally," continued Areszeus, his red eyes shining brilliantly. "You are pure of heart and soul, boy---otherwise you would feel the stone's burn. After two hundred years, I am finally going to be free."

Daniel looked back at the stone beneath his palms. "The others---."

"Had their own 'personal' demons, boy," finished Areszeus. He moved up to Daniel's back and bent his head to the archeologist's ear. "But you---you are different---at least to the Chege." He drew the back of a clawed index finger down Daniel's cheek. "Have you ever killed anyone, boy?"

The archeologist remained silent and focused, his hands working at a stubborn piece of the masonry.

"The Chege have judged us different, but we're not---are we. You have killed just as I have."

"No---I've killed but in self-defense or in defense of those I love."

"How many? A handful, a dozen---hundreds?"

"I don't---I don't know."

Areszeus placed his hand on the back of Daniel's neck. "You've killed people, boy. People with families, with friends, people who didn't 'want' to die. Why are we judged differently when we have both ended lives---stopped hearts from beating?"

"I was defending my own. You were killing because you 'enjoyed' it."

"Are you saying you didn't enjoy it? Have you ever killed with your bare hands? Oh---I think not---not an innocent like you. There's nothing like it, boy---nothing more empowering than knowing you're stronger and---."

"Please---just shut up."

"Nothing like feeling the heat of blood as it pours out over your hand," continued the demon ominously, his breath gusting warm and moist against Daniel's ear. "Nothing like the feel of a heart held in your grasp, the sounds of life fading, faltering---dying."

Daniel closed his eyes, his hands frozen on the wall.

"You will never know that strength over another. The Chege have deemed you pure---good---and they labeled me evil---yet we both have killed. What right did they have to do that, boy? What right did they have to imprison 'me'---here, with no hope of escape? What right did they have to hold me to 'their' lofty morals? Why aren't you deemed evil?"

"I'm not like you."

"Aren't you? You've taken lives just as I have. What about your soldier friends? Are they labeled demons in your world?"

The young man opened his eyes. "No---they've killed in defense of others---of our world. Some might disagree with what they do, but they're not considered demons."

Areszeus snorted. "I bet they've killed with their bare hands like I have, reveled in that power over another."

"No, you're wrong."

"Snapped someone's neck like a twig---."

"Please just shut up," hissed Daniel. He pulled at the stubborn piece of masonry, his teeth gritted.

"Would the pretty woman be judged demonic by the Chege as I was?"

"No."

"I've been watching your other two friends. The gray-haired one---I see it in his eyes. He would kill me for harming you."

"Probably."

Areszeus moved closer, his fingers tightening at Daniel's nape. "I could pull his heart from his chest and hold it still beating in front of your eyes, boy."

Daniel slammed his fist against the stone cover and it shattered, spraying debris over both the archeologist and the demon.

"You fool!" shrieked Areszeus.

Daniel turned to see the demon's red eyes flare, blisters from where he'd been hit with the shattered stone already standing out stark against his pale skin. The archeologist forced himself to hold those evil eyes, forced himself not to show the fear that paralyzed him, not to cower away.

Areszeus' hands fisted at his sides and his body virtually shook with his anger. He raised his chin and stared down his nose at the young man, his breath gusting from his flaring nostrils.

"If you kill me, you kill you're only way out of here," warned Daniel, his voice surprisingly steady.

The demon's eyes narrowed. "You do that again, I will pull your gray-haired friend in here with us and I 'will' kill him before your very eyes. Am I clear on that, boy?"

"You touch my friend you won't get out of here."

Areszeus laughed suddenly, his chin tipped back, then in a blur of speed, he back-handed Daniel hard enough to knock the young man off his feet. He stepped forward and loomed over the archeologist then turned and stocked out of the cavern, his footfalls echoing back down the stairwell and off the walls of the young man's prison.

Daniel reached up a shaking hand to touch his cheek, his fingers coming away red-tipped with his blood. He dropped back against the wall, the sudden rush of adrenaline leaving his body shuddering.

"God, Jack---what do I do?"

The archeologist closed his eyes against the pain throbbing behind them and moved his hand to his sore shoulder. The heat of the punctured skin penetrated the cotton of his black tee shirt to warm his palm and he knew infection had taken hold. He dropped his hand limply to his lap and bit his lower lip.

After a few minutes, Daniel pushed himself to his feet and turned back to the wall, his shaking hands moving back to the task of breaking the masonry that covered the secret of his escape, the secret he'd take with him to his death.

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CONTINUED

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	5. Chapter 5

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CHAPTER FIVE

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Sam stepped through the Stargate to see O'Neill staring blankly at the MALP. She'd been by Hammond's side when he'd told the colonel that SG-1's youngest team member was being listed missing-in-action. O'Neill had reacted blandly, but his eyes had flashed with a spark of anger and with something else; loss.

"Colonel?" prompted the major.

"Carter."

"Are you okay, sir?"

O'Neill looked up from the MALP's camera to meet Sam's eyes as she approached him from the dais. "Just peachy, Carter---right as rain, hunky dory. You?"

Sam gritted her teeth against the scathing tone of voice; he was upset, she reminded herself, and not with her. She adjusted her MP5 around her shoulders then fell into step beside her commanding officer.

"No luck with the Tollan device I take it?" queried O'Neill, his voice still harsh.

"No, sir."

"Damn it. Why couldn't he have just come with me? Why the hell does he always have to be so damned curious?"

Sam knew the colonel wasn't expecting an answer. She knew he already knew it; Daniel was simply being Daniel. She bit the side of her cheek and cast her gaze ahead of her. He was also no doubt blaming himself for the archeologist's capture.

They walked back to the camp in uncomfortable silence. As they neared the site, Sam looked ahead to see Teal'c standing on the altar, his staff weapon clutched tightly at his side. She wondered how long he'd been there then looked to the camp. Hawkins stood from his perch on a log and approached, his look one of trepidation.

"Major, move your people back to the caves," barked O'Neill.

"Sir?"

"Change in orders---you're to start testing for naquada again."

"But what about Dr. Jackson, Colonel?"

O'Neill snorted derisively. "He's MIA, Major, or hadn't you noticed?"

To Hawkins' credit, he didn't react to the colonel's tirade. His face fell for a moment then he straightened his shoulders and nodded his affirmation.

"SG-1 will stay here and---wait," continued O'Neill with a roll of one hand.

"I can leave some of my team here, sir."

The colonel shook his head. "You have your orders, Major."

"Yes, sir. We'll be close by, well---just in case we're needed, sir."

Sam watched the major turn on his heel and stride back to the camp. She heard him barking orders, his team jumping into action. They'd have their gear packed and moved within minutes then SG-1 would be left alone, left to wait for its missing fourth.

"I'm going to go check on Teal'c," announced the colonel brusquely. He walked away, his posture straight, his hands resting on his P90.

"Colonel?"

O'Neill turned and looked expectantly at Sam. "What?"

Sam swallowed uncomfortably and hitched her head to the side. "I'm sorry about the---."

The colonel waved her off, his features finally softening. "You tried, Carter," he said then his lips thinned into a tight smile and he turned and strode away.

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"You've made some progress, boy!"

Daniel stepped back from the wall and looked at the inscriptions feeling Areszeus' presence behind him.

"What's it say?"

The archeologist bit his lip, schooling his features to convey pure honesty. "Not what you think it does," he replied evenly.

"What do you mean?" asked the demon.

"The Chege lied to you, Areszeus. This isn't a door into my realm, but one back into theirs."

"Really?"

Daniel swallowed then lifted his hand to ghost his work-torn fingertips over the inscriptions. "Beneath this stone," he read aloud. "Lies a locked door, a door that leads back to the beginning." He shrugged. "That's all I've got for now."

Areszeus grunted. "Now that's interesting, isn't it? The Chege lied."

The young man turned his head, startled suddenly at the nearness of the demon at his back. "I'm---I'm sorry it isn't what you thought it was," he stammered.

"You don't lie very well," whispered Areszeus, his voice a slithering hiss.

"Lie? I'm not lying," replied Daniel a little too quickly.

The demon smiled, his yellow teeth glinting in the gloom of the cavern. He lifted a powerful hand and placed it on Daniel's injured shoulder.

"I'm sorry," repeated the archeologist. "But you're not the only one trapped here. I wanted my freedom, too."

"You're trembling."

Daniel swallowed convulsively. "I'm not---not feeling very well."

"You're too good for your own good," cooed Areszeus. He pressed his mouth to the top of the archeologist's head, an affectionate gesture that sickened the young man. "Do you know that?"

"I'm not---not sure what you mean."

"You can't lie to me, boy."

Daniel felt the warmth of the demon's breath against his short-cropped hair, the hand on his shoulder tightening. He steadied his breathing and gritted his teeth against the pain.

"You're my way out of here---this door is my way out of here," continued Areszeus softly.

"I just told you it wasn't."

Areszeus wrapped his arm around Daniel's chest and pulled him close, his lips still pressed against the young man's hair. "Do you not have anyone---special in your life, boy?"

"Wha---what?" blurted the archeologist, startled by the non-sequitur.

"A woman---love?"

Daniel bristled. "That's none of your business," he spat.

Areszeus chuckled. "You don't, do you? Perhaps once, but now you're all alone. Poor little lost boy---so very much alone."

"Shut up."

The arm around Daniel's chest tightened like a vice, the strength overwhelming. "You know the feeling of loneliness. We're so much alike, you and me."

"I'm nothing like you."

"So 'very' much alike---I will enjoy our time together."

Daniel scowled. "So you do believe me? About the door?"

Areszeus snorted. "Of course not," he replied then his arm slid up under the young man's chin in a choking grip. "You will continue to work here."

"Why? It isn't a doorway out," insisted the archeologist adamantly. The arm squeezed against Daniel's throat and the young man gasped.

"Your big friend watches and waits, but he won't kill me when I leave."

The archeologist pulled helplessly at the arm clamped around his neck, his vision darkening suddenly around the periphery. "Let me go."

"No one will kill me when we leave."

Daniel's lungs burned for air. His knees buckled, but he didn't fall, his body held suspended against the demon's chest, the feel of the thin cold lips still pressed against his hair. Then he was falling, his head striking the wall as he collapsed. His lungs expanded and contracted frantically as a strong hand gripped him under one arm and hauled him across the cavern.

He had nothing left with which to fight as the cold metal of the shackles were once again snapped closed over his wrists.

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"O'Neill."

Jack stopped his pacing and glanced across the fire to where Teal'c stood.

"I will take first watch," continued the big Jaffa.

The colonel rubbed tiredly at his forehead. "Yeah, yeah---okay. I'm going to check the perimeter, big guy, I'll be back soon."

"Want some company, sir?" asked Carter from where she sat near the flames, her knees drawn up and wrapped protectively with her arms.

"No," replied Jack with a dismissive wave. He picked up his P-90 and slung it over his shoulder. "Get some rest---I'll see you later."

Dark rain clouds had settled overhead and Jack peered up at them as he walked, the brilliant moon casting its light over them and making them iridescent. Jack wondered briefly if Daniel was seeing the same nightscape, if he was also looking up at the sky, if his friend was calling for his help.

He shook his head of the thoughts. Daniel was a grown man and more than capable of watching out for himself. He'd managed without SG-1, without Jack for the majority of his life and he'd manage again. His friend was going to come back, Daniel always did.

Jack moved his focus to the tree line that surrounded the clearing in which SG-1 had their camp. Hawkins and his team had moved back to the caves, but still had remained within a stone's throw if they were needed, if Daniel needed them.

The colonel climbed to the top of the grassy knoll he'd shared with his friend only two nights prior, their conversation replaying in his mind. There was a lot he still didn't know about Daniel Jackson; his childhood in Egypt, his time in the foster system. Jack didn't even think the young man had shared his past with Sha're, so closely did he guard himself. But there were hints his friend would drop, hints that went straight to Jack's cold heart.

He smiled and amended his thoughts. No longer did he have a cold heart. Thanks to Daniel, Carter and Teal'c, the hard-assed tough-as-nails colonel no longer existed. Thanks to the young man who'd thawed a broken man's icy soul on Abydos, Jack O'Neill was able to 'feel' again. He'd never let his team know that, never let Daniel know that, but inside, Jack knew it was all too true. He was a soft pile of mush---and he could hurt.

"Damn it, Daniel."

Jack moved off the knoll and back to the tree line, his eyes peering into the dark forest. Before he knew it, he found himself standing at the altar. The place looked frightening even to Jack, the moonlight casting an almost otherworldly light over the stone wall. Then he snorted derisively; of course it was otherworldly, he was standing on another world, for crying out loud.

He moved up the steps and then stood, his P-90 cradled against his chest, and stared at the inscriptions, the warning that told travelers to beware. Daniel was in there somewhere, pulled into the demon's prison by force to do what, Jack didn't know.

The colonel approached the wall and drew his fingers over the surprisingly cold stone surface. His mind was telling him to back off, that he was tempting fate, but his heart urged him on. If he could get to where Daniel was, find his friend then together they could find an escape, they always could when they were side by side.

Jack pulled his hand away sharply, his skin prickling with goose bumps; the wall appeared to shift under the moon's strange illumination. Without hesitation, the colonel reached forward again, his fingers seeking entrance into the prison that held the demon, the prison that held his friend.

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This time Daniel screamed. As Areszeus released his second wrist from the manacles, the archeologist collapsed in a pile, the bones of his cellmates pressing into his side.

"If you would behave, I would allow you to rest on the cot."

Daniel squeezed his eyes shut against his pain. "Go to hell," he spat.

Areszeus laughed. "I'm already there, boy," he replied jauntily. "Have been for a very long time. Now get to work. With the progress you made yesterday, I expect to be freed by the end of the day. If I'm not, well---then you will spend yet another long night on your feet chained to the wall." He prodded the archeologist with his foot. "You're certainly not a very sturdy species, are you?"

Daniel pushed himself to his hands and knees then collapsed back down. He glared up at the demon which earned him a gleeful smile in return.

"I'll bring water down later. You'd better be working when I do."

The young man nodded then watched his captor stalk away. He shifted his body off the skeleton he was crushing and rolled onto his back, the stone floor cool beneath his overly warm body. He felt odd, disconnected from reality.

"I don't think I like that guy very much."

Daniel sat up abruptly and turned his head. "Jack?"

"Yep, the one and only."

The archeologist stared at the man propped against the wall next to him, legs splayed out in front of his slumped body. "God, Jack."

"Got a little too close to the wall," mumbled the colonel. "Guess I found you though."

"You think?"

"So this friend of yours---Hair of Zeus---?"

"Areszeus," corrected Daniel automatically. He slid his aching body closer to his friend.

Jack waved a dismissive hand. "Whatever---he's not exactly bucking for the title of Most Friendly, is he?"

Daniel's eyes widened. "He's hurt you," he blurted. "Oh, God, Jack---you're bleeding." He pressed his palm against the older man's abdomen.

"Nothing but a scratch, but someone should tell that guy to get a manicure."

"Jack, he practically gored you."

The colonel hissed through clenched teeth. "Hey, take it easy there, will you?"

"Sorry," replied Daniel. He rolled from his haunches up to his knees for better leverage.

"The son of a bitch tried to yank my heart out---literally. Lucky I don't have one."

"Jack."

"What? I'm just saying---."

"This is my fault."

"How so?"

"You're here because of me, because I'm not moving fast enough for him---because I lied to him."

"So---because you're not rushing to help this loony tune escape?"

Daniel nodded. "I'm sorry, Jack."

"Not your fault," replied the older man easily. "You look like crap by the way."

"Oh, thank you for pointing that out."

"Just being honest---you smell, too."

"You're just full of praise, aren't you?" snapped Daniel as he removed his hand to tear off a strip from his dirty tee shirt. He wadded it up and pressed it against Jack's wound trying desperately to staunch the flow of blood.

"Praise? Is that what you want, Daniel?"

"What?"

"You got yourself captured by a demon with what I suspect is a nasty case of halitosis, tossed into a dungeon---."

"Shut up!"

"Damn it, Daniel."

"You're always so quick to decide I'm responsible when anything goes wrong, that I did something stupid because---well, Dr. Daniel Jackson always does something stupid. Well, surprise Jack---getting pulled into this hellhole wasn't my fault!"

Jack grimaced. "Okay, okay---keep your voice down---geez."

Daniel suddenly realized he was breathing hard and he closed his eyes.

"Ah, look at yourself, Danny," said Jack, his voice gentle. "What's he done to you?"

The young man shook his head. "Don't," he said. "Just don't."

"Don't what? Care?"

Daniel opened his eyes and flipped the soaked piece of cloth over then pressed down again. "You're a lot smarter than you act, Jack. Surely smart enough to notice caring about me is a death sentence."

"Wow. Where the hell did that come from?"

"Never mind---its nothing. I'm just---God, I don't know." Daniel bit his lower lip to stop the unexpected sob from escaping. "I'm just so tired, Jack."

"I know---but you got to keep going, Daniel."

"Why? So that Areszeus can get out and kill again?"

Jack shook his head. "No, of course not---Carter and Teal'c will stop him before that happens. You can do this---I know you can."

"Me?" Daniel said incredulously. "Alone."

"Well I'm sure as hell in no shape to help."

The archeologist sniffed and scrubbed at his nose with his free hand. "I better do something or you'll no doubt pay the price. Here---hold this tight over that wound, okay?" He picked up Jack's lax hand and placed it over the scrap of material. "Press down, Jack---you've got to stop the bleeding."

"I've got it, I've got it."

Daniel sat back on his heels and looked at his friend only to see Jack's smile and nod of reassurance. He pushed himself to his feet and wavered, the room tilting crazily then braced his body against the wall with a raised hand. His shoulder burned, the heat of it coursing through his blood, making him sweat.

"You all right?"

"I'm not sure exactly," replied the young man honestly. "I think I'm in trouble."

"You think?"

"Jack."

"You're our only way out."

"I know that, but thank you very much for reminding me."

"Just trying to help."

"Well don't."

"Geez, you risk your life to help a friend and this is the repayment you get," muttered the colonel.

Daniel ignored the older man as he made his way to the inscriptions. He'd managed to expose the entire first two lines the prior day so all that remained was to expose the symbols of the last line.

"What's it say?" asked Jack.

"Beneath this stone lies a locked door, the key to which lies within the heart and the soul---that's it."

The colonel snorted. "Deep."

"Jack."

"Areszeus doesn't seem to have a heart or a soul, Daniel. If that's the key---well, I think you know where I'm going with this."

Daniel lifted his torn fingers to tug at the stubborn masonry. "I know," he replied.

"If he can't leave, he's certainly not going to let you leave."

"Us."

"What?"

"You said 'let me leave'. It's 'us'."

"Oh, right, right---whatever."

Daniel turned to cast a worried look at his friend. "If I find a way out, we're both going. No one gets left behind, remember?"

Jack smiled. "I remember."

The archeologist turned his focus back to the stone. "I'll get us out of here, Jack---just trust me, okay?"

"Yeah sure---you betcha."

"Good---now shut up and let me work."

"Do you even 'know' what man-in-charge means, Daniel?"

Daniel swiped away the sweat that dripped into his eyes and snorted. He hated having Jack trapped with him, hated that his friend was bleeding, dying, but he hated most that he took comfort in the older man's presence. He'd get Jack out and back to the SGC. He wouldn't fail him.

The archeologist gathered his remaining strength, shoved his pain to the back of his mind, and slowly worked to break away the stone that covered the final clue to their escape.

"Why does Areszeus believe he can use this---this door thingy anyway?"

Daniel shrugged. "I don't know," he replied.

"He can't leave through the wall upstairs because it'll kill him and he can't even touch this wall here."

"Then what makes him think he can open this door," finished the young man almost to himself. He stilled his hands over the stone, his bloodied fingertips leaving prints on its cool surface. "Why does he think he can leave?"

"That's the question of the day, now isn't it?"

"He said he couldn't read the Chegen language and yet he knew it was a warning, he knew that I could read it."

"He's known what the inscriptions say all along?"

Daniel's brows puckered and he turned to look at his friend. "If that's true then he knows about the key."

"And---therefore?"

"Therefore I must be missing something, Jack."

"You miss nothing, Daniel---as in zilch, nada, zip."

"But I've missed something here," replied the archeologist. He turned back to the inscriptions and studied them. "Something important."

"What?"

"I have no idea."

"Well, you're almost done so we'll find out sooner than later, I guess."

Daniel nodded. "I guess," he echoed then he continued to break away the masonry.

When Areszeus' footfalls sounded on the steps a few hours later, Daniel was nearly done. He turned to see the demon crossing the cavern floor, a smile lighting his red eyes then the archeologist cast a quick glance to Jack who still sat slumped against the wall, his head dropped awkwardly to the side, his eyes watching Daniel closely.

"Good boy!" exclaimed the demon. He dropped the tray he was carrying and hurried to Daniel's side ignoring the mess he'd just made. "You've done it, boy! What does it say?"

"Why don't you tell me?"

"Daniel."

Jack's warning tone caused the archeologist to dart a glance in his friend's direction.

Areszeus' eyes narrowed. "We both know what it says, don't we?" he replied. "Now finish it."

"No."

The demon reached out and grabbed Daniel behind the neck in a blur and yanked him close. "I said finish it."

"I won't."

"Leave him alone!" shouted Jack.

Areszeus smiled. "You're my ticket out of here, boy," he cooed. He lifted his free hand to gently brush back Daniel's hair from his forehead then he bestowed a kiss there. "I 'will' have my freedom."

Daniel struggled feebly against the demon's grip but to no avail. Areszeus lowered his lips from the young man's forehead then his eyes delved into Daniel's, into his very soul and the archeologist knew what was happening.

"Jack!"

"Call all you want for your friend, boy---he can't help you now."

The red eyes flared and Daniel's breath caught in his chest then his body went impossibly numb. He hung limply in the demon's grasp, unable to fight the cold that was enveloping him, unable to turn away from the eyes that held his.

"No."

Then his body exploded with blinding pain as Areszeus took his soul.

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CONTINUED

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	6. Chapter 6

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CHAPTER SIX

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Teal'c lifted his chin and canted his head; he'd seen something.

"What is it?" asked Major Carter who stood at his side.

"I believe the wall is---changing."

"I think you're right."

Teal'c flicked on his staff weapon, the hiss of it shattering the eerie silence that had settled over the altar. He watched as the wall seemed to come alive, shimmering in the gray light, shifting like a delicate curtain blowing in a breeze.

Then Daniel Jackson stumbled through collapsing in a heap at the center of the altar's stone floor.

"Daniel!" cried the major. She dropped to her knees at the fallen archeologist's side and gently rolled him to his back.

Teal'c hovered over them, his staff weapon still raised and watched as Major Carter removed their younger friend's glasses. He then switched his attention back to the still-fluctuating wall.

"What is his status, Major Carter?"

"He's alive, but---oh my God."

"What is it?"

"His eyes."

Teal'c knelt beside the major and peered into Daniel Jackson's still face. The woman lifted one of her friend's eyelids to reveal not the expected clear blue but an iris of red.

"What could have caused such a change?"

"I don't know---pressure maybe, but this---this doesn't look like broken blood vessels," replied Major Carter. She leaned closer. "It's almost like---."

Before Teal'c could respond, one of Daniel Jackson's hands shot up and grabbed the major around the throat. His eyes snapped open and he sat up abruptly throwing Major Carter from him with inhuman strength. He turned his head and pierced Teal'c with his flaring red gaze.

"Daniel Jackson."

"No---guess again."

Teal'c stood and stumbled back a step, lifting his staff weapon to point it at the archeologist.

Daniel Jackson's lips curved into an unfamiliar smile. "You won't kill your friend," he said.

"You are no longer my friend, but the demon of which the inscription warns."

The stranger rose to his feet, the smile still gracing his lips. "But your friend is here, too---stubborn and strong-willed, this boy."

"Release him."

Teal'c cast a quick glance to see Major Carter standing at his elbow, her MP5 aimed and at the ready.

"Let Daniel go," continued the major.

"I will release him, but only when I'm at the Gateway."

"The Stargate?"

The demon shrugged. "Yes---if that's what you call it. I will let the boy go when I get to your Stargate."

"We can not allow you to leave," declared Teal'c.

Daniel Jackson's eyes closed tightly and when they opened again, Teal'c met the familiar blue gaze.

"Teal'c? Sam?"

"Daniel?"

"Areszeus, he's hurt Jack---," stammered the young man, his expressive brows furrowed with pain. "Get to Jack---help him."

"Daniel Jackson---."

"Help him," implored the archeologist then he wavered and his expression changed, his eyes flashing angry red once again. "I will kill the boy or I will release him---the choice is yours."

Teal'c lifted his chin and stared down his nose at the demon. "If you terminate the life of Daniel Jackson, I will kill you."

Areszeus smiled. "Our little problem could be solved so easily if you just allow me passage to the Stargate, my friend."

"I am in fact not your friend."

"Ah, but you're his."

"Let Daniel go now and we'll allow you passage," offered Major Carter.

Areszeus regarded the major through narrowed eyes. "You expect me to trust you?" he asked.

"You expect us to trust that you'll let Daniel go," the woman countered.

"I believe we have what is called a stalemate then."

"Indeed."

The demon looked first to Teal'c then to Major Carter, his nostrils flaring in anger, his breath audible as it gusted from his nose. For a moment, Teal'c wavered; this was his brother, his dear friend---he could not kill this man. Then Areszeus' red gaze fell on the Jaffa warrior once again and Teal'c saw only evil. An evil that distorted Daniel Jackson's features, curled his lips, bastardized the archeologist's innate goodness, his innocence.

Somewhere nearby a bird's strange cry shattered the ominous silence.

"Teal'c."

The Jaffa looked to Major Carter and nodded in acknowledgement.

"All right," conceded the major, her icy blue eyes moving back to Areszeus. "We'll let you pass, but we'll go with you to the Stargate and if you don't release Daniel, we'll kill you without hesitation." She motioned with her automatic rifle for the demon to move. "Go."

Areszeus nodded once then crossed the altar, his movements so unlike Daniel Jackson's. He stopped in front of Teal'c and looked up at him. The warrior couldn't help the shiver that rose up his spine; the gaze was oddly familiar yet strange at the same time.

The demon smiled. "You know me, don't you?" he asked lowly.

Teal'c blinked, the memory of a childhood nightmare rising to the fore. He cast a glance at a confused Major Carter, shaken to his core. She looked back at him questioningly then he shook his head and shoved the memory away.

Areszeus chuckled, the sound unnerving. He moved to the head of the stairs, paused for a moment as if to soak up his freedom, then he lowered a foot to the first step---and screamed.

Teal'c didn't remember hitting the wall. He was standing watching the demon one moment then found himself slumped at the base of the inscriptions, Major Carter at his side, the next. He stared in a daze at Daniel Jackson's body as it convulsed, the young man's head thrown back, his mouth opened as he cried out his pain.

"Daniel!"

For a moment, the Jaffa looked beyond Areszeus to see a tall figure appear from the underbrush, a weapon lifted and aimed, dark eyes widened in horror then Teal'c's gaze moved back to the body of his struggling young friend.

"No!" shrieked the demon. He turned to stare at the wall, his prison, a look of clear incomprehension on his face. Blood drizzled from the corner of his mouth and a guttural scream passed his lips again. His head fell back and his body shook.

Then Teal'c narrowed his eyes as a flash of light nearly blinded him. The light burned bright white then slowly shifted and split into two colors, one light blue, the other deep blood red. Daniel Jackson suddenly tumbled backwards down the steps leaving only the crimson light shimmering unsteadily at the head of the stairs. For a moment, Teal'c caught sight of a creature ominous in its size as it coalesced then the shape faded. Beside him, Major Carter gasped.

Teal'c pushed himself to his feet, his eyes still narrowed against the harsh light. He pressed himself against the wall, the feeling of cold evil in the air almost physically forcing him back. Major Carter stood at his side, her hand instinctively moving to grip the Jaffa's forearm.

A panicked scream split the eerie silence and the light trembled violently. It collapsed in on itself then launched itself toward the wall. Teal'c pulled the major to him as the ball of red hit beside them.

One final scream full of pure hatred echoed in Teal'c's ears as the light disappeared into the prison then a quiet fell, broken only by the distant shouts from SG-11.

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Sam pushed herself off the corridor wall against which she'd been leaning and walked to the closed door of the isolation room. She placed her hand against the door, the metal cold against her palm---so different than the heat she'd felt coming off her friend only hours before.

Daniel had been unconscious when she and Teal'c had finally rushed to his side, but he had come to calling desperately for the colonel. He'd been delirious; his skin hot to the touch as he'd pleaded for them to help O'Neill, so certain that his friend was dead. Sam could still hear the young man's broken pleas, see the hands reaching for the wall. O'Neill had immediately dropped to his knees at Daniel's side, his P-90 all but forgotten, and had gathered their friend to him.

The major turned and looked at her commanding officer as he nervously paced back and forth, his hand rubbing absently at the back of his neck. His reputation with the SGC was one of toughness, hard-as-nails, cold-heartedness, but she and her team mates knew a different man. O'Neill had been gentle with Daniel, tender, Sam thought, as he'd cradled him protectively to his chest, hushing his young friend's pleas with quiet words.

Sam shook her head, still unable to process what had happened. If she hadn't heard the colonel's lame attempt at a bird call, one Daniel had teased him about mercilessly during one of their first missions then she wasn't sure what she and Teal'c would have done. She'd known O'Neill was out walking the perimeter, but she hadn't known if he'd seen what was happening in time to help. Daniel's life had been in her hands---or rather in the hands of an unfathomable evil and she'd known that no matter what the cost, she'd stop Areszeus from escaping.

"Are you well, Major Carter?"

The major started slightly then looked up to meet the concerned eyes of Teal'c. The big Jaffa regarded her closely, his head canted to one side, his chin slightly lifted.

"You appear to be a great distance away," continued the gentle warrior.

Sam smiled. "I was," she replied.

"I too have been replaying the incident in my mind. It is never easy choosing between the lives of many and the life of one held so dear."

"No, it's not. God, Teal'c, it could have played out so differently, he could have died at the hands of that---that thing."

"But he didn't, Carter. The Chege saw to that."

Sam looked at the colonel. His expression was hard, almost angry, and she swallowed convulsively. He wasn't dwelling on what could-have-been, he wouldn't allow that; Daniel was alive and Areszeus was gone and those were the facts.

The major nodded. "Yes, sir."

"Any news?"

Sam looked beyond O'Neill to see Hammond striding towards them. "Not yet, sir," she replied.

The general's brow was puckered in concern and his blue eyes darted quickly over the three members of SG-1 before settling on its leader. "We'll debrief as soon as we know Dr. Jackson's condition, Colonel."

O'Neill nodded then his head turned sharply as the door to the isolation room opened to reveal Dr. Janet Frasier. "Doc?" he prompted. He shoved his hands quickly into his pockets and stepped toward the diminutive woman.

"He's going to be fine, Colonel. He's responding well to the antibiotics. His temperature is still far too high for my liking, but he's out of danger."

"Can we see him, Janet?" asked Sam.

"Of course."

Janet stepped aside as Sam and the others filed into the big room. O'Neill brushed past the major as he moved to Daniel's bedside, his hands still in his pockets while Hammond and Teal'c stood at the foot of the bed.

Sam's brows furrowed; Daniel was curled up on his side, his knees drawn up as far as the little bed would allow. She looked up and met Janet's eyes in confusion.

The doctor shrugged. "He insists on sleeping like this," she replied.

"He's trying to disappear," murmured O'Neill.

"Colonel?" prompted Hammond.

O'Neill canted his head so he could see Daniel's face. "Just something he told me once," he explained evasively.

Janet seemed to understand for her expression softened. "Well---we'll just keep the lines untangled then," she said, her voice breaking slightly. She reached across the sleeping archeologist to straighten an IV line that led to Daniel's hand, a hand that lay curled beneath the young man's chin in a position that reminded Sam of a small child.

"What is his condition, Doctor?" asked the general.

Janet sighed. "His wrists are severely abraded leading me to believe he was restrained, probably chained. There are a number of welts on his back---." She paused, one hand idly closing the gap at the back of Daniel's scrub top. "The skin wasn't broken so the intent was clearly to inflict pain and not physical damage."

"What about---?" O'Neill waggled a finger at his mouth.

"The blood? No internal injuries, he just bit his lip."

"And what of the fever, Dr. Frasier?" prompted Teal'c, his big hands clasped at the small of his back.

"There are puncture wounds to his shoulder and several deep bruises inflicted by what looks like a very large and powerful hand. The wounds are infected as are the scratches on his face----which explains the high fever. This demon certainly didn't worry about good hygiene; Dr. Jackson's system was teeming with bacteria." The doctor canted her head in thought. "His chemical makeup was also quite different. I found traces of a toxin as well."

"But he's responding to the drugs," clarified Sam.

Janet nodded and smiled reassuringly.

"So what---that son of a bitch poisoned him, too?" asked O'Neill, one hand gesturing sharply. "It wasn't enough that he chained him and whipped him---he made him sick, too?"

The doctor frowned. "I'm afraid so, sir," she replied. "I can't identify the chemical but it seems to be having a hallucinogenic effect on him."

"That would explain Daniel Jackson's insistence that O'Neill was in danger," offered Teal'c.

As if in response, Daniel mumbled and shifted on the bed, his bandaged fingers twitching, his legs moving beneath the light sheet.

"Hey, hey---take it easy," soothed the colonel. He rested a gentle hand on his friend's shoulder then pulled it back when Daniel jerked away.

"Don't," muttered the archeologist.

O'Neill looked across Daniel to Janet, a questioning look on his face.

"He's not aware, Colonel."

"Jack---no, no---please find Jack."

Sam bit her lip at the soft pleading words and at the expression on her commanding officer's face. There were so many times O'Neill conveyed an indifferent front, but occasionally he'd let his mask slip slightly and reveal the deeply caring man beneath. He was hurting for his friend, a man who had managed to fly under O'Neill's radar to find a permanent place in the older man's life---in all of their lives truth be told. Sam still wondered how a sometimes scatterbrained, absolutely brilliant, stubborn, clumsy, gentle civilian had won them all over so easily. She shook her head; and even without their knowledge.

Daniel settled again and O'Neill shoved his hands back into his pants pockets.

"He's going to be fine, Colonel," assured Janet gently.

"Anything else, Doctor?"

Janet moved her gaze to Hammond. "Physically, no, General, and honestly, I think in cases like this one, the physical is the least of our worries. Daniel's been to hell and I think it'll take some time for him to come back from it."

"Whatever our boy needs, Doctor," promised the general.

"Yes, sir."

"Jack?"

The weak voice from the bed drew Sam's attention.

O'Neill bent down to look closely at the younger man, placing a hand on Daniel's shoulder again. "Daniel? You with us?"

"You okay?"

Sam moved slightly so that she could see her friend's face. The archeologist's eyes were unfocused, his expression one of confusion as he stared at the colonel in disbelief.

"I'm fine---how---how are you?" replied O'Neill uncomfortably.

"No, he hurt you. How---? What---?" Daniel moved his hand from beneath his chin and rubbed his eyes. "God, Jack---I've got to get you out of here."

O'Neill frowned at Janet then moved his gaze back to the archeologist. "Its okay now, Daniel---you did good."

Daniel drew his knees up further and curled his hand back under his chin. "I'm scared, Jack," he mumbled, his eyes sliding closed. "Don't leave me here alone."

"I won't," replied O'Neill softly but firmly. "I promise---now sleep, okay?"

Daniel didn't respond and Sam knew he'd slipped away again. O'Neill stood bent watching his friend for a long moment, his hand still resting on the younger man's shoulder and Sam felt once again the deep-rooted connection between the two men; the affection that was ever present. Then O'Neill's face shuddered, he cleared his throat and straightened his stance, once again the military colonel concerned only for the well-being of a subordinate.

"He'll be in and out for the next few hours," explained Janet. She absently straightened the lines draped over Daniel's body then tucked the sheet up over the scientist's shoulder.

"Daniel Jackson still believes he is captive."

"The toxin is dissipating, Teal'c, and his fever is down; he'll be okay given time. Now you all look exhausted so why don't you leave me to my patient and go get cleaned up---and eat something while you're at it."

"Mind if I stick around for a little while?" asked O'Neill. "Just in case he---you know---wakes up confused again?"

Janet smiled indulgently. "Colonel."

O'Neill hitched his head. "Just for a little while, Doc."

"I would like to remain as well, Dr. Frasier."

"Me, too," chimed in Sam with a sheepish shrug. "I think we just want to sit with him a while, Janet. We all thought he was gone---please, for just a little while?"

Janet exchanged a look of fond exasperation with Hammond. "All right," she replied then she raised a finger and canted her head. "But don't wake him up---I mean it, Colonel."

O'Neill touched his palm to his chest, a look of complete innocence on his face.

Hammond chuckled and shook his head. "I'll check back in an hour or so, Doctor. If there are any changes, please let me know immediately."

"Yes, sir."

Sam watched the general leave the isolation room then she turned back to her team mates. O'Neill had already maneuvered a stool to Daniel's bedside while Teal'c remained in a relaxed stance at the foot. Janet slid another stool to the side opposite the colonel then patted its seat with a knowing smile.

"Thanks, Janet."

"No problem."

The major sat down and hooked her feet around the stool's legs then braced her hands against her thighs. She looked down at her sleeping friend curled up beneath the light sheet, watched as his fingers twitched. Through the slight gap in his scrub top she could see the red welts standing out starkly against his pale flesh and she shivered. Daniel 'had' been to hell and Sam knew with the help of her team mates they'd bring their youngest member back.

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CONTINUED

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	7. Chapter 7

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CHAPTER SEVEN

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"Daniel."

"What?"

Jack closed his eyes and took a breath, reaching deep for a bit of patience. "You need to be quiet."

"I am."

"No---you're tapping your foot."

Daniel obediently stopped the distracting movement then sighed. "Are there even fish in this pond, Jack, 'cause I haven't even had a nibble?"

"Would I ask you to join me on a fishing trip if there weren't any fish?"

"Maybe."

"Daniel."

The archeologist shifted on his deck chair then sighed again and Jack turned his head to hide his frown. The minute Frasier had released his friend from his medical internment Jack had swept him away to his cabin with the promise of sharing his fishing wisdom. Daniel hadn't been too thrilled, but he'd agreed to accompany the older man, packing away some books 'just in case'. They'd arrived the day before to a rain storm much to Jack's chagrin; he'd wanted the trip to be perfect, wanted Daniel to relax under sunny skies, but Mother Nature it seemed had other ideas.

By the evening, the clouds had parted and the sun had appeared to color the sky a brilliant orange pink. Daniel had stood at the pond's edge gazing up and Jack had wondered what he'd been thinking. He'd approached his friend when the sun had disappeared leaving only a sky full of twinkling stars overhead. He hadn't said anything, just stood by Daniel's side in companionable silence, casting furtive glances at the younger man, noting all the remaining physical signs of Daniel's abuse and worrying about the non-physical ones.

Then Daniel had abruptly turned and left, entering the cabin and leaving Jack to wonder what he could do to ease his friend's pain.

The squeak of Daniel's deck chair pulled Jack from his thoughts. He rolled his eyes; the boy just couldn't sit still. His gaze dropped to the archeologist's knee as it started bouncing up and down then Daniel shifted forward in his chair causing the aluminum frame to squeak again.

"Quiet, Daniel---the fish, remember?"

"I'm not even talking, Jack," snapped the younger man.

Jack sighed and rubbed at the back of his neck in frustration.

"This is nuts," continued Daniel irritably. "I'm going for a walk." He reeled in his line awkwardly, his torn fingertips still bandaged, then set the pole aside and stood.

"Daniel---."

The archeologist waved Jack off dismissively. "Leave it, Jack---just leave it alone, okay?"

"Okay," replied the colonel knowing full well the 'it' of which Daniel spoke wasn't the discarded fishing pole.

He watched his friend shove his hands into the pockets of his worn jeans then walk away, his head dropped, his shoulders slumped.

"Damn it, Daniel."

The younger man had played everything right. He'd obediently done all he was told including sessions with Dr. McKenzie, then had obediently declared he was fine. But Jack knew from his own personal experience that his friend was quite the opposite. After the Gulf War, Jack had talked with the shrinks, had said all the right things, too, but he'd also let loose in the gym to get his anger out, his gut-wrenching fear. But that wasn't Daniel's way. Daniel needed to talk. Jack hadn't talked to Sara because that would have forced him to really 'feel'---and that had worked for him. Or at least it'd seemed to work for him until the death of his son pushed him too far.

Jack watched Daniel move along the edge of the pond then veer off onto an animal trail. The archeologist had been the one to pull Jack from the brink. The long-haired brilliant dweeb had opened Jack's eyes to living again, feeling again. How, Jack couldn't even be sure, but he'd done it and Jack loved him for it.

The colonel snorted and shook his head at his sentimental thoughts. Daniel was responsible for the downfall of the great and powerful Jack O'Neill as were Teal'c and Carter. His 'kids' were simply the most important part of his life and when one of them hurt, he hurt, too.

He turned back to the pond then the darkening of the sun drew his eyes skyward. A bank of ominous looking storm clouds appeared over the tree tops and Jack sighed; Mother Nature was 'still' plotting against him. He just couldn't seem to catch a break.

By the time Jack had packed up his tackle box, grabbed up the deck chairs and poles, the sound of thunder could be heard booming very close by. He hustled the gear into the cabin then took off after Daniel. The rain had just started when he came upon his errant archeologist sitting at the top of a rise that looked out over the valley spread out below.

"Nice view."

Daniel turned his head slightly at Jack's words. "That's some storm coming in," he commented.

"And you don't even have the sense to come in out of the rain."

"Guess I don't have much sense about anything."

Jack hitched his head at the statement. "Where the hell did that come from?" He moved to his friend's side then knelt uncomfortably.

"Just thinking."

"People don't 'think' on their down-time, Daniel," scolded the colonel then he sighed. "Listen, why don't we get in before the heavy rains hit---get the fire going? We can even talk, you know---if you want."

"I want to watch the storm."

"Okay, but wouldn't it be better to watch it from 'inside' the cabin?"

Daniel shrugged then turned his attention to his hands extended out before him, his elbows resting on his drawn up knees.

"What's that?" asked Jack. He narrowed his eyes to see a tiny line of beads with which his friend was idly toying.

"Sha're's bracelet," Daniel replied. "Or rather a piece of her bracelet."

"I didn't know you had that."

"Kasuf gave it to me after the---the funeral. Other than a few pieces of pottery, it's all I have left of her."

Jack canted his head. "The beads---they're beautiful," he said.

"They're pebbles I found on Abydos. I shined them up then linked them together. It's what I gave her instead of a wedding band. She didn't wear it very often." Daniel smiled softly. "I thought it was because she didn't like it but it was because she loved it so much, she didn't want to lose it."

"Ah."

The rain picked up a notch and Daniel turned his face up and squeezed his eyes shut as it pelted his pale skin. "I like the rain."

"You do? A boy born and raised in the desert?"

"Everything's fresh after a good rain, Jack---fresh and clean---pure."

Jack frowned. "Pure? I can see the fresh and clean part, but pure?"

The archeologist smiled, his bandaged fingers still toying with the line of beads, his face still upturned. "That's why he needed me to escape, Jack---did you know that? 'Beneath this stone lies a locked door, the key to which lies within the heart and soul, in the purity of the one who uses it'." He opened his eyes and turned to Jack. "Me."

"Daniel---."

"The Chege judged me pure of heart and soul, Jack---me. A man who has done nothing but fail the ones he loves, a man who has killed, who has maimed---."

"Knock it off, Daniel."

The archeologist visibly shivered. "I felt him when he entered me, felt what he felt---it was so cold, Jack, and so dark---and so, so wrong. I watched him use my fingers to tear away the final piece of the stone, watched as he used my hands to press against the symbols for 'heart' and 'soul'. God, Jack, I can still feel him inside me." He shivered again more violently. "I don't know how I got out with that monster---." He faltered and shook his head.

"Your good was stronger than his evil, I guess," Jack concluded.

"But it wasn't or I would have beaten him."

"Daniel, you were hurt, in some serious pain, not to mention sick---."

"I just want---."

Jack frowned. "You want what, Daniel?"

Right before Jack's eyes, Daniel closed down, tucked everything back into that space within him where he kept all his pain and hurt, the space Jack wished fervently he could reach.

"Nothing---its nothing."

"Daniel," pushed the colonel. "Tell me what you want."

The younger man smiled. "I want to go inside," he said simply.

Jack sighed in exasperation then stood and proffered his hand to his friend. Daniel grabbed it and began hoisting himself up, but lost his footing on the rain-slicked grass and fell sideways nearly taking Jack down with him.

"No---the bracelet!" cried the archeologist suddenly. "I dropped it, Jack!" He pushed himself to his hands and knees and frantically scrabbled through the fallen leaves and needles littering the ground.

The colonel squatted and helped in the search, the now heavy rain making it difficult to see as well as turning the spots of dirt into mud. He moved his hands through the debris, but to no avail; the bracelet was gone.

"Daniel."

"No---no it's here Jack---it's got to be here."

"Daniel, we can't even see in this rain," replied Jack. He reached out to grab his friend's arm. "It's gone."

Daniel looked at him with wide eyes. "No---it's all I have of her, Jack. It's not gone---it's here someplace." He took off his water-splattered glasses and tossed them aside then began his frantic search again.

Jack reached and picked up the spectacles, folded them then tucked them into his shirt pocket. He sat back on his heels and watched Daniel's desperate hunt. He watched as the rain fell harder, as the thunder boomed overhead, as the lightening lit the darkened sky---and as realization finally dawned over his young friend's face.

"It's gone," Daniel murmured brokenly. He looked up to meet Jack's compassionate gaze. "I've lost it, Jack---lost her, haven't I."

There was no question in the statement, only the acceptance of finality, of a truth finally being spoken aloud, of a heart finally realizing what the mind already had.

"I'm sorry, Danny."

"What do I do now, Jack? How do I go on?"

Jack shook his head. "I don't have the answers for you, Daniel---God, I wish I did, but I don't."

The archeologist dropped his chin to his chest and fell onto one hip, his shoulders shaking as his overwhelming pain hit him like a physical blow. Jack moved forward and took his friend into his embrace and as Daniel openly wept, he whispered comforting words against the young man's soaked hair.

And the rain simply didn't matter anymore.

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Daniel awoke slowly to the sounds of birds chirping. He opened his eyes then quickly squeezed them shut as the light of the afternoon sun ramped up the incessant throbbing behind them. He hardly had any memory of Jack carefully guiding him back to the cabin through the earlier storm, such was the depth of his exhaustion, but he did remember clearly the older man stripping him out of his wet clothes then helping him into bed. He'd fallen asleep quickly, aware of only the weight of the man sitting up next to him and the warm hand resting on his shoulder.

The archeologist opened his eyes again then sat up. He turned to the bedside table to see a glass of water and two aspirin waiting next to his glasses. He swallowed the pills and finished off the water, put his glasses on then slipped out from beneath the covers. He padded across the small rustic room to fish a pair of sweats and a flannel shirt from his duffel bag.

After dressing, Daniel pulled on his socks then exited the room, making his way into the kitchen. He called out for Jack but heard no response, no movement in the cabin other than his own. He found his boots by the front door and put them on leaving the laces undone then walked out onto the front porch. He narrowed his eyes against the sun, his head still throbbing, and moved around the corner of the cabin to see Jack sitting on the little pier in a deck chair, his head tipped back, his legs splayed out before him. Daniel couldn't help the small smile; his friend had set out a second deck chair.

"Hey."

Jack didn't budge. "Hey," he responded. "How you feeling?"

Daniel crossed the small distance then sat in the chair next to the colonel. "Fine," he replied automatically.

"Bet your head hurts like a son of a bitch."

"Yeah---yeah it does. Thanks for the aspirin, by the way."

"No problem. Figured you'd need them, what after---well---you know." Jack squinted at the younger man. "Are they at least taking the edge off?"

Daniel nodded, casting his gaze off over the pond. "I'm sorry I fell apart on you, Jack."

The colonel straightened in his chair. "Seems like you needed it."

"Guess so---thanks."

"What are friends for if not to snot and bawl on?"

The archeologist snorted.

"Hey, look what I found."

Daniel's eyes widened as Jack dangled the line of beads in front of his face and he took it with his shaking hand.

"You were down for the count so when the storm passed, I went back to look for it. Found it tucked up beneath a bush."

The younger man squeezed the beads in his fist and turned grateful eyes to Jack who just shrugged nonchalantly and looked out over the water.

"Not a big deal, Daniel, so don't make it one, okay?"

"Thanks."

"Yeah, well---you'd have done the same."

Daniel settled back in his chair, the beads still in his firm grip, and turned his face to the sun. He inhaled deeply the scent of the rain-dampened woods and tried to relax. After only seconds he shifted in his chair and sat forward catching the amused snort from the man at his side.

"You just can't do it, can you?" teased Jack looking at Daniel askance. "Sit still---be quiet---veg out."

"I can---veg with the best of them, Jack."

"Oh, you 'so' can't, Daniel."

Daniel looked down at the beads he held and shook his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "Okay so maybe you're right," he admitted reluctantly.

"So that would make you---wrong?"

"Jack."

"No, no---let me enjoy this for just a minute, will you. This doesn't happen every day."

"I've been wrong before."

"Oh, I know 'that', Daniel, but when have you ever admitted that I was 'right'?"

"Don't be an ass."

Jack chuckled. "Sorry."

Daniel sighed then lifted his gaze to the trees across the pond. "I'd like to ask you a favor, Jack," he said.

"Shoot."

"Would you teach me to defend myself?"

Jack shifted in his chair. "What? Daniel you're as good with that Beretta as anyone---."

"No," interrupted the archeologist, touching his extended index finger to his lips. "That's not what I mean." He turned to look at his friend. "I want to learn to fight---with my hands. I want to be quicker and stronger---I want to be able to---."

"Kill?"

Daniel looked quickly away from Jack's knowing eyes. "Maybe---I don't know."

"Why?"

"Why not?" snapped the younger man. "God, Jack, I thought you'd be glad I was finally ready to be a---a soldier."

"Is that what you think I am---and Carter and Teal'c? You think because we're soldiers, we're killers?"

Daniel sighed and rubbed absently at his pounding temple. "No, of course not," he replied wearily. "I want to be able to defend myself---to defend you and Sam and Teal'c."

"You do defend us, Daniel, with your gift of the gab---with your words."

"Words didn't matter with Areszeus."

"Ah, so that's it," Jack sighed. "Daniel, from what I've gathered that demonic bastard was stronger than Teal'c. There's no way you could have taken him physically."

"Maybe, but I was helpless, Jack. Helpless to help you---."

"Even though I tried to be, I wasn't there, remember?"

"Not the point. I 'thought' you were there and I couldn't do anything to help you. Hell, I couldn't have helped you if it was Ernest Littlefield holding us in that prison."

"I think you could've taken Ernest."

Daniel turned angry eyes to his friend. "Don't patronize me, Jack."

The colonel put his hands up in a defensive gesture. "Whoa there, I'm sorry, okay?" He leaned forward bracing his elbows on his thighs and regarded Daniel closely. "You've never had to kill with your bare hands, Daniel, but I have and so have Teal'c and probably Carter. To kill with a weapon is bad enough, but to feel someone's life end---I mean really 'feel' it end---damn it, Daniel, I don't ever want you to experience that---not you."

"Areszeus said there was nothing like it."

Jack rubbed his forehead. "Geez, Daniel."

The archeologist looked down at the string of beads. "I felt so helpless, Jack. When it was just me, I was resigned to the fact I wouldn't ever be leaving that place, but when he pulled you in, too---and I know it wasn't really you---." He sighed tiredly. "I want to be able to fight, Jack. I want to be able to defend you guys. I can't lose anyone else because---God, I just can't do it again." He closed his eyes and fought to rein in his emotions, taking comfort in the warm hand that suddenly squeezed the back of his neck.

"All right, I'll get you on a weight-training program, do some exercises to sharpen your reflexes, teach you how to render an opponent unconscious, but I won't teach you how to kill someone. I won't do that, Daniel, and don't you ever ask me to."

"Thank you, Jack."

Jack gave Daniel's neck another squeeze then he pulled his hand away and gave the archeologist a nudge. "Don't thank me yet---you don't know how tough an instructor I can be. I'll get Teal'c to teach you some of his Jafitsu---."

"Jafitsu?"

"Yeah, Jujitsu Jaffa-style---geez, Daniel, work with me here."

"Sorry."

"And I'll get Carter to help, too. She's pretty good with those feet of hers."

"I'll say."

Jack leaned back in his chair and stretched his hands up over his head. "You hungry? You slept right through lunch."

Daniel ducked his head and smiled. "Did you fix some of that fish you caught this morning?"

"Good one," Jack retorted. "No, I didn't fix some of that fish I caught this morning. I had PB and J."

The archeologist tossed a confused look at his friend.

"Oh come on, Daniel---peanut butter and jelly? Don't tell me Egypt didn't have peanut butter and jelly."

"We had peanut butter and jelly, Jack, but we called it---well---peanut butter and jelly."

Jack shook his head in fond exasperation then his eyes dropped to his lap where he idly picked at the frayed edge of his over-sized shirt. "You going to be okay?"

"I don't know," Daniel replied honestly. He shrugged. "I hope so."

"Wouldn't it be nice if life was like episodic TV?"

The archeologist furrowed his brows. "You're not going to try to relate our lives to that cartoon show you obsess over are you?"

"I'll have you know that The Simpsons is classic American television, Daniel---top-notch entertainment."

"And that show relates to the SGC---how exactly?"

Jack scowled. "I'm not sure it does. Why?"

"You tell me."

"What?"

Daniel sighed. "You said it would be nice if life was like episodic TV?"

"Oh, right, but I didn't mean like The Simpsons."

"Then why did you bring them up?"

Jack dug the heels of his hands into his eyes then dropped them quickly to stare at Daniel with strained patience. "I didn't bring them up---you did."

"No, I'm pretty sure---."

"Daniel, for the love of---." The colonel rose to his feet. "You see---this is exactly why I don't try to impart my vast wisdom on you. You twist it every which way and---."

"Vast wisdom?" squeaked the younger man. He stood and followed his friend toward the cabin. "Vast wisdom, Jack? Like your vast wisdom that resulted in us catching all sorts of fish this morning?"

"Well if a certain someone who shall remain nameless---Daniel---hadn't been so noisy---."

"Oh, it's my fault you didn't catch anything."

"Yes---yes it is as a matter of fact."

"We didn't catch anything because there's nothing to catch."

Jack reached for the knob on the front door and turned it. "Says you," he retorted.

"Jack," admonished Daniel as he followed the colonel into the cabin then closed the door. He kicked off his boots and padded across the living room behind the older man.

Jack entered the kitchen but stopped and turned back, index finger raised. "Tomorrow morning, Dr. Jackson---if you're nice and quiet---."

"I'll end up with a sore ass from sitting still too long."

"Very funny."

Daniel gave his friend a shove. "Go---I'm hungry---and no BP and J."

"That's PB and J, smart guy," replied Jack with a sideways grin. "So what'll it be? Turkey, tuna?"

The archeologist moved past Jack to pull the loaf of bread from its box. "Tuna sounds good. Probably the only fish I'll be eating while I'm here."

"Ha, ha---you're a real comic, Daniel. Anyone ever tell you that?"

Daniel snorted then turned to watch his friend putter around the kitchen. He glanced down at the bracelet still clutched in his hand and smiled then shoved it in the pocket of his flannel shirt. He looked back up to share a nod of reassurance with Jack; he was okay---for the moment anyway---he was really okay.

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The leader of SG-1 sat up in bed not quite from fear, but from the distinct feeling that something wasn't right. He swung his legs out from under the blankets and stood, the wood floor beneath his feet cold and jarring. Without taking the time to pull on his jeans, Jack wandered out into the hallway. He turned to see Daniel's door standing open, the bed within the room rumpled and empty. They'd shared a good afternoon and evening, their bickering and bantering giving Jack a feeling of normalcy and comfort, but something had happened after they'd turned in to sleep, something that had left Daniel's room empty.

Jack walked down the hall, his senses pitched for any noise, movement or scent. He stopped in the middle of the living room; Daniel was standing outside on the back deck clad only in his sweatpants and tee shirt, his breath visible in the cold air, coming out in quick uncontrolled puffs.

The colonel quickly pulled on his boots he'd left by the front door, grabbed his heavy coat and Daniel's off the rack then eased himself out the back door and onto the deck. He approached his friend slowly being sure to make enough noise to avoid startling the distressed younger man. Gently, Jack put Daniel's coat over the archeologist's shoulders then slipped his own coat on.

"Sorry if I woke you up."

Jack leaned his elbows on the deck railing. "You didn't," he replied. "You okay?"

"No, I don't think I am."

"Nightmare?"

Daniel nodded then slipped his arms into his coat and wrapped them over his chest, his body noticeably trembling. Though the fall Minnesota night was cold Jack knew his friend's reaction wasn't all due to the low temperature.

"It'll just take time, Daniel," the colonel continued gently. "What you're experiencing is normal."

"I saw him---in the room---those red eyes."

Jack clenched his teeth and moved his gaze out over the dark water of the pond. Daniel hadn't really talked in detail about what had happened to him in that prison, but Jack knew his friend's injuries, could recite them by heart, and it didn't take a rocket scientist to fill in the gaps Daniel had left opened.

"We went back to PJ6-877," continued the archeologist quietly. "To blow up the altar, but instead of destroying the prison, it set Areszeus free. He killed everyone I cared about---you, Sam, Teal'c, Sha're'---then he came after me." He sighed tremulously. "Do you think he's dead, Jack?"

"Yeah, I do. But even if he's not, Daniel, he's back in his prison. After we got you out of there, SG-11 put up more warnings around the altar. He won't be able to hurt anyone again."

Jack turned his head to look at his friend when there was no response. Daniel's face was upturned to the stars, the moon's light reflected in his clear blue eyes, his glasses apparently forgotten in his haste to get outside. He wasn't shivering quite as much, but his arms were still firmly wrapped over his chest, his breathing still quicker than normal.

"What did you mean earlier?"

The colonel's brows puckered in confusion. "What did I mean about what?"

"About life not being like episodic TV."

"Oh, that."

Daniel smiled. "Impart your vast wisdom on me, Jack."

"I just meant that what you're going through, it's not something that goes away in a day or so."

"And that relates to episodic TV---how?"

Jack rolled his eyes; did the boy even watch television. "You're not like one of those characters that go through trauma one week then are back to normal the next." Jack waved his hand. "That happens all the time in TV dramas."

"Oh."

"You 'will' be okay, Daniel, you just have to give it time, talk to McKenzie, talk to me, but don't lock it away because it'll just fester and one day when you least expect it, it'll bite you in the ass. You're not alone in this, you know."

"I'm beginning to see that, Jack."

"Good," Jack replied. He straightened his stance then shoved his hands into his coat pockets and stared up at the nightscape. "So you still up for fishing in the morning?"

"Okay."

"You going to be quiet this time?"

"I 'was' quiet. I'm a very quiet person, Jack."

"Yeah---sure you are," retorted the colonel then he shivered. "Geez, it's freezing out here, Daniel."

"You wouldn't be so cold if you'd remembered to put on your pants. Nice look, by the way."

Jack looked down at his bare legs and his untied boots, the bottoms of his plaid boxers showing beneath the edge of his coat. "Yeah, well, I sort of had other things on my mind."

"Passing planes could probably see those legs," added the archeologist.

"Hey!"

Daniel snorted, a teasing smile tugging at his lips.

"Come on, let's go inside, grab some hot coffee," suggested Jack as he turned to the door. "And yes, I brought plenty of your favorite blend---Carter and Teal'c insisted on it---even if it did put me into some serious debt."

"Thanks, Jack."

The colonel turned meeting Daniel's eyes and he knew the younger man's gratitude was for more than just remembering the type of coffee he liked.

Jack reached up and cupped his friend's jaw giving him a lopsided grin. "Anytime, Daniel---anytime."

Then with Daniel by his side, the colonel walked across the deck and entered the welcoming warmth of the cabin.

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THE END

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End file.
